i do not believe any longer.

The god you speak of, the one you devote time to every week, is merciful. loving. generous. Where is their mercy for the kindergartener who has a cyst in his brain? What could he have possibly done to deserve twenty hours of seizing? Where is their love for the people who have tried to leave the world you say he created for us? The ones who have lines up and down their arms, across their thighs, lining their hands? The ones who have held knives against their throats? With empty pill bottles in their hands? How can you sit there and tell me there is a god above? That your god is the one who looks down on us? That everything they do is for a purpose? I don’t see your god’s damn purpose. What’s the purpose of giving us food, then cursing a teenage girl with the mental illness that makes the need to throw it back up? What’s the point of putting us here and watching us struggle? The only generosity I see is when your god assigns tragedies. Why am I here if I’m only going to die one day? What good are prayers if only the rich white families have their requests granted? What kind of god asks you to kneel for them, when we could stand and do more than they ever have for us? What fucking kind of fucking god leaves us with more questions than fucking answers? I wish I could believe in your god, but I live in my own world apparently. Maybe faith is your way of coping but I do not believe any longer. I believe that one day I will die in this world. One day my body be buried in the ground where it will stay and rot. One day I will be gone. One day, none of this will matter and I won’t be here to care. But for now I choose to believe in my reality and not your god. Because your god seems more like a devil than a savior and your heaven seems a lot more like hell. And there’s enough hell on the earth you say your god created to last me until I get the chance to meet them.