I'm a blank slate. I just don't know what to say anymore. I have no more words to offer people. No more words I can say to myself. As a solace. As a comfort. I have nothing, and everything. I stand, a testament that dead people can walk and talk.
I've been fighting my whole life. It's all I have ever done. It's all I have ever known. And now I am just tired. Exhausted. And to breathe seems like going to war. To wake from my bed seems like try to catch air with a net. Pointless. What's the point of rising if in reality you haven't moved at all?
I'm sick. Sick of who I am. An abomination. I have no place in the company of man. I've held out this long because I thought my strength was enough to quell my demons. But I was poorly mistaken. You can't destroy an enemy that's knows you too well.
God, I will never place a blame on You nor anyone else. The fault is mine and mine alone. I'm sorry about the way things turned out. My love for You will not falter. Too bad my imperfections was my downfall. I beg for mercy and compassion. Though I feel I deserve none.
Now, I lay, weary and defenceless. I just want to be at peace. From thoughts that corrupt. From desires that are impure. From a life that is no longer fit to be called as such.
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