We all speak in tongues sometimes. We all lay in the walls just to hear what others say sometimes. We all keep our hearts hidden from the world sometimes. And I tend to run away every time You call on me. Why is it that the biggest part of my life becomes so small in retrospect? Tell me I’m beautiful because I’ve never felt so mundane. I have trouble believing that there is a God who loves me because I’ve been too sick to believe in anything. I wish I could go back to when I was a child, and get excited for Sunday school, and participate in the arts and crafts that were mandatory if you wanted to go to heaven. Father, I’ve changed my mind. I really want to go to Heaven! But I don’t know how to pull the plug on what I know. Let me tell you, it’s going to be hard to give up on the cheap sluts and the idea of suicide, but I can do it for You. I can do it for myself because, in the end, it’s better to live a long, satisfying life then to die early because of the bad choices that I’ve made. But I know them too well. On second thought, let me just sit here and pluck off the feathers of my dreams, hoping that they will fly away.