I know I am personally and spiritually responsible for what I write but I don’t think I’ll ever stop struggling with why these words are here. In my brain. Ready to be purged just when the time is right. Grammatically incorrect and socially irresponsible.
The times when I am most uninhibited is when I scare myself the most. But my consciousness is open, my thoughts free and words come pouring out. I feel more myself and less of a victim of identity crisis. Forget identity fraud – hell, let someone have my identity- it is still unknown to me. What can they do with it that I can’t?
When heart hinges open and pure desire threatens to enrage, drooling red intensity, I know I can’t stay here. I would burn. Fanning flames of hell. How would you like to know that not only would you be in hell – you’d be using a billow?
Mercy and Grace. Reigning down for transgressions and meant to comfort but really only make me question my worth. These are more like names parents use on their kids… or burdens. Grace is a burden because I can’t seem to live by the rules without summoning inner demons.
I’ve often wanted to be something, not someone, else throughout my life – it’s a reoccurring thought that helps escape reality. Immature? Absolutely. But will I fight my nature forever? Probably. Good thing I’m not alone and this isn't new. I'm a cliche.
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