Are you afraid of God?

I am afraid.
Of a lot of things, truthfully.
But of all the things that keep me up late at night,
none hold as much power over me
as do you.
Do not mistake me,
I do not find you scary,
though the way your eyes can bring me to my knees
I would describe as much.
I do not find you chilling,
though the way my heart would freeze
when you would call my name,
would be fitting.
What roots me in sheer terror
is the uncertainty in you.
I am afraid that the 2 a.m. phone calls
made in tears,
do not carry the weight for you,
as they do for me.
I am afraid that reading the last few chapters
of your book to me didn’t completely envelope your heart in love,
as it did mine.
I am afraid that all of these words I write in honesty and pure intent,
that you read deep in the night,
mean nothing to you, and that they fall on a cold heart.
I’m afraid that you truly have no intentions of making time
to see me, plan as we might,
and that the thought of a future without me doesn’t just break your heart
like it does mine.
I am afraid that I am just a footnote to you,
while you are the entire story to me.

So no, I do not fear God,
nor any man,
nor any kind of beast,
but you?

I am afraid of you.


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