I cannot recall what it feels like to be free from all of my insecurities constricting me.
I am drowning in my blood which runs like water from my eyes, engulfing me in its sweet embrace, making me see it for its tranquility, love, and grace.
I am surrounded by demonic whispers teasing inpurity out of my every pore, illiciting a feeling of overwhelming unhappiness I feel I might collapse.
My heart is getting peirced with claws of self-hate.
When I look in the mirror I fear it might just break, because no observing being can bear seeing what I have made myself be.
I am a dissapointment to myself and to those who thought loved me.
A waste of space, I feel bad for the air that I breathe for it has to circulate through a corpse so cold it has become numb towards all forms of sanity.
The tips of my fingers engrave marks into my skin reminding me of the vessel that I have been enslaved in.
I will sit on my throne reveling in the pain, thinking of all I should've done and all I could've been.
I will create serenity out of the chaos inside.
I will reburn the ashes of a soul that was once alive.
I will lay in my coffin, arms crossed ever so delicately across my chest, waiting for my body and mind to coalesce.
Until I am a single unit- no longer a conflicting mass of sin.
Until I am no longer a hostage in my own skin.
