You say God is above

but now I’m not so sure.

She stares at the moon and says

“reach it for me, daddy,”

but like the moon,

God is out of reach.

Kneel, pray, apologize for your sins,

but I will not conform.

If I am on my knees,

I would rather be pleasing

than praying,

I would rather be touching something real

than something far away.

But to please who I want to please,

I don’t always have to be on my knees.

And this is something else to apologize for.

Bring me back,

I’ve prayed and cried

bring me back,

God, love me.

I want to believe,

I want to be forgiven,

but I don’t owe Him anything.

How do you find the middle?

Where can I love, and be loved,

and still be me?