I Don’t Need Your Gasoline
I have never had a taste for vulnerability. It might even have something to do why I’m not a fan of sleep. While it may be feminine there is nothing I find desirable about the quality of weakness and therefore never tolerate it from myself.
I realize now that this has cultivated a deep defensiveness. Walls, upon fences, upon doors chained and locked, guard my psyche from anymore misery. I’ve got all the sadness anyone ever needed. I have hated and punished myself more than anyone has ever fantasized about. I don’t need your gasoline in this- my niche of hell.
We all have our reasons, the rationalizations for the seemingly irrational things we do. I have a history of choosing addiction over the comfort of other people. I have shunned beautiful maybes for pills and self-harm because ultimately we all know what’s more reliable.
These are the sins I want to confess- because maybe something in me desires redemption.
I realize now that this has cultivated a deep defensiveness. Walls, upon fences, upon doors chained and locked, guard my psyche from anymore misery. I’ve got all the sadness anyone ever needed. I have hated and punished myself more than anyone has ever fantasized about. I don’t need your gasoline in this- my niche of hell.
We all have our reasons, the rationalizations for the seemingly irrational things we do. I have a history of choosing addiction over the comfort of other people. I have shunned beautiful maybes for pills and self-harm because ultimately we all know what’s more reliable.
These are the sins I want to confess- because maybe something in me desires redemption.