july’s sacrament of reconciliation

it's not making any sense. god forbid that drugs kept me alive and it's screaming at me. take it, take it. break me to pieces and snort it. it's reaching for my head and kisses me goodnight. i hate taking drugs, and that's what i wanted to believe. want to believe. i don't understand why i still here right in this circle of hell whenever i thought i escaped it. turns out i just need to escape from myself. my mortal vessel. god lend me this body only for me to scarred it, break it, drugged it, and slaving it away. i wonder what he thought of me. sinful and dirty and stained with unwashed sin. i wonder if it'll go away. it traces every inch of my skin and making sure to touch every piece of my hair and leaves a stain. staining me with it. maybe i should just put my skin inside out, but who am i kidding? it's under my skin. it's living there silently and quietly and moves when i speak, knowing it moves so loud up and down when i'm with no one but myself to talk to. it's in my blood, my veins, every cells of my body. it laughs when i took my vows, knowing it won't wash it away. it sticks with me and it's born within me. it never dies, it multiples whenever your kisses delivered so delicately. and i catch myself praying to god through your lips, saying prayers to keep your body safe from it, hoping that it'll block it from ever entering your body. let it lives inside me, you have enough on your plate. it never goes away, i know the answers to my questions. i never wanted to acknowledge it, though. i know but i don't want to know. it knows i'm ashamed of who i am when i mouthed i miss your hands on mine, grabbing my hair like a demand to pray. i do, i do pray. i pray for you through you and i pray for my sins to be forgiven as i kneel. it's not enough, it still laughs at me. i can just scratch my skin or cutting it open to speak with it and lick the blood to let it stay on my mouth as i pray, wishing it'll just go away. i know it won't but i'm still trying either way. i know it but i don't want to acknowledge it, it doesn't make any sense when it should. it lives within me and as much as i despise to admit it, it's what i am and what will be left of me when i'm all nothing but bones six feet under.

24th nov ‘24

p.s: heavily influenced by ethel cain’s tumblr post, excuse the undeniable similarities on the topic.