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the earth the swollen earth has not let me go a dozen times and I keep thinking that someday I will find god somewhere on the kitchen floor on the desk I had in first year in the bathroom sink when I was twelve someday I will find god in A&E I thought god was a medical student who came to my flat at three am when she took my shirt off I told her I could not feel anything and she was beautiful
in the way that I could never be I am always covering and cutting negating my own progress my existence is a momentary lapse of reason of treason I do not want to exist anymore right now the air is thick and the fan is on and his shadow is a mountain that I want to climb into I do not want to escape tear my limbs apart tear my flesh in the way that I could never manage when I punched my leg over and over again that was where he used to hit me when he used me I thought it was okay for men to take me like that a warm body a vessel like a paper crane. made out of ripped up train tickets convulsions in the night I am scared but I think it is my brain telling me to be scared rather than me physically being scared cannot interpret anything anymore if I read this to myself I would diagnose myself with
please let me rest lord I have given everything and it is never enough I am full of self pity The Lord hates me is that a sin to say that The Lord hates me please forgive me I have nothing but yet I have everything I do not have real problems I just want to
stop breathing apparently my medication will stop my lungs working properly and it will latch on to the air or lack thereof and I will be free free free free free free free