My throat is constricting and my heart is racing. What the hell was I thinking? I am in the next room and all I want to do is fight. I am angry as hell at myself and there is no one to blame so I turn the shame towards you; I’ve been sorry for a long time, but but I’ve never felt so inclined to apologize for the lies that hold me hostage.
I want to run away from the mess that I have caused. I’m shaking, always shaking. People don’t know how bad I get when I hide in the closet and scream into the clothes that I have no motivation to move into their rightful homes. I am ashamed of my name for it has become a synonym perpendicular to that of the dog shit you wipe off your shoe.
I don’t deserve this and you deserve so much more. I should be ashamed of all that I employ upon you. This is my apology. I need to help the feelings inside, but I am too angry, too sad, the numbness has taken over and the feeling is so terrible I want to rip out my own body so that someone else can have a turn. This is a bad game that has gone awry. I am losing the game and I am the one supposed to be making up my own rules.
My heart pounds, escaping the metronome usually inhabiting behind my rib cage. The showers bouncing off flesh colored cement and forming the ravine that may one day help me escape this god forsaken place. Damn, I thought it would be a lot harder to walk away, but this is what happens when no one asks you to stay.