Never Turn the other Cheek

I feel drained, like after Camp Bullis. Minus the pride, multiply the misery. Only 3 days left of my last long summer here, yet I can't have peace. I can't wait. I need to leave. Need to leave it all behind until I can prove myself an independent being. A secular being.

I feel ugly, and I fear the mirror. I feel fat. It's 84 outside and I promised myself that I'd run. Today. Any day. It's 1700 and I've lifted nothing heavier than a slice of pizza on a plate, that and years worth of sorrow once again distilled into spiteful words.

For 3 years I threw myself onto a blind path. Throwing away relationships, happiness and respect in the name of truth and all that is righteous and good, only to witness one of my own shredded with blades launched from a self-righteous, pathetic pulpit. Want me back on it? Try again later.

The once shredded has built her own altar to sacrifice me with those same dull, rusted blades. I don't need this anymore. Month after month, year after year, the same old recycled bullshite, the evermore fervent curses. I don't need to have my sins repeated to me. I chose them. I chose my life. I intend to live with my scars, or die bleeding.

I don't suppose I'll ever outrun this growing tesselation radiantly colored with guilt and fear. I'm once again broken apart inside, but I've learned not to cry. I believe there's beauty in the breakdown, just not before you.