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eternia

Inspiration. Rants. Vices. Theories. Music. Passion. Experiences. Love. Truth...
from your favorite rapper in a skirt.

Packing up my life again,
Realizing my whole life has been
A wasted attempt at proving I am worthy.

Wasted - not because I am not -
But because noone said I wasn’t.

(well, except for maybe 17 years ago).

I am full of sopping self pity and displaced defiance,
Filthy mop water of tears shed from head chasing tail,
Not knowing who to blame
But refusing to blame me.

Blame me.

All my actions motivated by self-validation:
School.
Music.
Now this.
I am caught in the abyss of… ‘me’.
Too blinded by my own skeletons,
Paralyzed by fear of monsters long since turned to dust,
The anger replaced with sadness,
Each equally poisonous,
Eating at the core of us,
Threatening to destroy what’s left of trust
and intimacy.

I’ve been pointing fingers while my self-righteous diatribe ate us alive.

And I’m petrified it’s too late.
The walls’ already raised
while I sound the trumpet of my belated remorse:
Oh Jericho!
Let me in…
it is I who have sinned.

My problem is not that I made you my life,
But that I made you my life for the wrong reasons:
Pride,
Accomplishment,
Validation,
Stubbornness,
Ego,
self.

Rid me of this tiresome skin,
I crave a light I have extinguished within.
In my shell lies all sorts of lies,
Justifying my dysfunctional side,
my dissatisfaction,
my war torn mind.

I have used you as a goal.
I have made you another task on my ‘To Do’ list.
I have made you a prize of my self-validation.
I have deconstructed your flaws to make me feel strong
and

I have not loved you.

Today,
I unpack my shame.
Imagine,
I am the one to blame?!

I will do anything for you for all the wrong reasons.
I will lay down my life, my desires, and my goals 
because I want to receive Love…
                    receive      (?!)
                        
Greedy & ravenous,
                            Sucking the very life out of us

I am f*cked.

"I need a miracle to save me…"
from myself.
From sabotaging all I have left.
From the greed that masks as matyrdom,
and from the weeds I quietly kept.

i…
wish to strip me from myself.

Pack.
  Unpack.
    Pack.
      Unpack.

Again.

  1. abouteve said: His mercies are new Every, single. Morning and yesterdays mistakes are in the sea of forgetfulness.
  2. therealeternia posted this
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