a godless room
i stopped praying for a while
faith always slips away from me after loss.
how i wished you could have seen the way
i made Death into a father figure.
i needed a strong grip in my life and
had held Death’s hand enough times to know that
his would do.
i had always imagined Death like the opposite of God
so i stopped praying—
i gave up waiting for words from above because
if there were any i was missing them
maybe the angels took a lunch break
or the celestial radio was set to the wrong station.
there was this feeling that no one was listening.
maybe my holy words were smoke in a windowless room,
collecting at the ceiling but never touching the stars.
maybe it wasn’t Heaven’s fault my grief
was piling up when I was the one who locked myself in,
but i stopped praying.
for a long time.
i began to imagine God’s voice like the sound
just after a fire alarm stops ringing—
that is to say, silence
that is to say, a noise built on absence.
Kayla Simon is a first-year student at the University of Connecticut, where she is majoring in English with a concentration in creative writing. There are few things she loves as much as poetry, but chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream definitely comes close. When she isn’t writing or reading, you can find her taking photos for her photography business or looking at the stars.