My breath is of smoke and bitter words thrown.

I am no friend of death, yet he follows me. Haunts my steps, whispers in my ear.. I will never leave you. And so many sweet words are whispered by him. It's all in the good Lord's plan. It's for a greater purpose. It'll make you stronger. His family will learn the good Lord's love from it. God's in control of everything, so this, let's make the best of this. It's ok to hurt, just let it out. Don't keep it bottled up.

Fuck that.

Doesn't anyone remember that Christ died to conquer death? That death is everything opposing God? Doesn't anyone remember that death is only here because we fell? Because WE fell? Doesn't anyone remember that the death of a soul is eternally lost, will never know his love, will never see his face? Doesn't anyone else think that death is not ok? I don't know what to feel or to think. I don't know what to say or to do.

Doesn't anyone understand that when I run away I want to be followed? You can't say anything dumb as long as you are holding on tight to me. Don't let me go. Don't walk away. Don't give me space. Don't turn me lose.

Smother me until I beat you off me and come back at me ready for the punches. I want to fight against you, tear, scream, kick, rip, and conquer nothing. To lose the strength of my body beating you back, and I want you to keep holding me strong.

I will not settle with death. I will never say it is ok. It hurts, I am angry. Can I say that? Angry, wheezing, coughing up blood from taking in so much shit. I have no angry words for you God, I clench my jaw and my fists. I have nothing to say to you. Satan is father of lies and I hate him. Death is his closest brother. Hate them both with me, won't you? You hate it, too, don't you? If you don't I don't know how to love you. If this isn't tearing you apart, if this doesn't make your gut sink, and skin crawl, and your breath hot, and your brow ache, then maybe I'm loving the wrong God. I have to believe you are hurting in this. Please tell me you are not sitting up there so smug and patting my head, saying, it's all ok.

It's not ok.
It's not all right.
It is not good.

Please tell me that, because if I can't believe that I will crumble. If I do not know that you are fighting this with me, then I am truly alone.

Where is your justice? Why do you feel so far from me?
I hate the lies. I hate the lies. I hate the lies. They deserve death. Not a man who breathed deep and reached high. Not the man who laughed, loved, wondered, and searched you out. Did he find you? Did you not run seeking after him? Did you not trap him and grab him toward you? How could you let him from your arms? Please tell me you didn't let him go.

If you let him go, how can I forgive you? If you let him go, then will you let me go as well?
I'm clinging to you, clawing your coat and pulling your great beard towards me. Do not let me go. Do not let me fall.
You snatched my life back from me before, two cold and cruel Aprils ago I had my life. And you would not let me end it. And death came at my door three times and you turned him away. So why me and not him? I did not deserve this life? Why didn't you conquer death for him? I do not deserve it.

Where is the redemption in this? Where is your love? Where is your mercy? Where do I come out breathing in this? Where do you come in, fighting back?

These are fighting words, YHWH. Fight back.