swallow

God, if you're real, you'll make this communion taste delicious.

I dipped the bread in the grape juice. You know, like cake or something.

I placed it in my mouth, hopeful, yet it seemed like little more than savourysweet mush in my mouth. I swallowed it quickly with an inward grimace.

And then, the gentle voice in the back of my head.

Following me is never easy to swallow.

It is always there, that voice. Sometimes so loud I weep, but often it is a gentle whisper in a deafening darkness. So easy to ignore.

When I concentrate on the voice, take pen to paper, and words flow from my fingertips that I could have never written myself. It is then that I know He is real, so real, His weight pressing down on my soul. But then I forget, caught up in whatever passion takes my fancy in the fleeting moments.

I am sixteen, young and therefore prone to mistakes. Is forgetting You a mistake that will last a life time? Or will I mature into adulthood and return to You?