You showed me heaven, but it smelled of sulfur.
You taught me love, but it wasn't the same shade.
You explained my body to me, and how it was reactive, sinful.
You told me my life was not my own. It was a part of a plan. Who's plan?
Oh yeah, "God's plan". The most powerful force ever to exist without being seen. Always to be feared and submitted to and never to be questioned.

How could you expect a child to survive in such a repressed state?
A place with no autonomy, no freedom, no love?

I planted my faithful mustard seed and was surprised when it couldn't grow without warmth, nutrients, and water. Funny how science can explain why this phenomenon happened, but God just remains silent.
Always so silent.

If I am deaf and blind, why has He not chosen me to be healed? What could a child have done to be forsaken?

As we sat in the car and the sun declined, the world turned to a peach hue and dimmed. The pouring rain from not only an hour before still felt as if it lingered in the air, sticking to my skin. A car joined us in the parking lot and started staring to the East, we both turned our gaze to align with theirs and saw a perfect rainbow accompanied by a faded second. And as we sat there and reflected on the topic of the human perseption of light, I found a moment to ask, "Can I kiss you so we can remember this moment forever?"
They replied, "of course".