LaMeta

“What does it look like God?” I could hear the question echoing, bouncing between the empty walls of my mind.

Lifeless.

I do not deserve an answer to a question I created. Ironically, I jumped without having many answers. One being what ripples would spread once I hit the water, how long would they last, and what damage they would cause. Somewhere between the hesitation, the rush, and the jump I decided I didn’t need them.

At the time.

But time has a funny way of unraveling truth as if pulling on the loose thread that hangs from its sweater. Pulling until it leaves you naked, exposed, and ashamed. Creating a question without having an answer; jumping into water without knowing how to swim. Perhaps I thought I would find the answer in the depth of water. Perhaps I thought I would hear it as I fell.