My Own God

I believe in a god

But not a god that others do

 

I believe in a god

That makes bookstores feel mystical

That makes you catch a whiff of old books

That makes you almost swoon with nostolgia 

 

I believe in a god

That holds onto small hands

As they take their first steps

 

I believe in a god

That lends their arms for shelter

When drunken parents stumble in

Tightly holding a belt in their hand

 

I believe in a god

That makes you notice

The cute animals you pass on the street

 

I believe in a god

That lead me to someone 

That actually understands me

And even claims to be in love with me

 

I will still believe in this god

Even if we don't work out

Even if one day he or I leave

 

I believe in a god

And it is my own god

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741