I doubt my doubt.
What if I am wrong
that I was wrong?
Is that enough
to send me to the hell
I grew away from?
I doubt my doubt,
yet here it is—
gnawing at my prayers,
sucking out the marrow
as I scream, “I believe”
into the shallow void.
I doubt my doubt
is anything more
then the human interruption
to faith. Shareable by all men,
laughable among the angels,
never undone by certainty.
I doubt my doubt
will ever go away.
I’m too agnostic for faith—
to faithful to give up—
the mighty paradoxes that
belief and anxiety blend.