Truthfully I think I’m a terrible person, not intentionally terrible. But yes, terrible. I don’t mean to be. I do things, knowing they’re wrong. Yet I don’t give a fuck. I’ll sometimes put my own selfish satisfactions before others. I’m vengeful. Vindictive is a better word. Sometimes I can’t even control myself. Or maybe I choose not to. Bad decisions… I make them frequently. There’s a hate in my heart that consumes my entire being. It drives me insane. It taunts my every move. My ears ring with thoughts that scream at me so loud. Nights like this, I write. My eyes wide open, watching my surroundings as if I were soon to be a victim of some heinous murder. I breathe heavily and seek my haven. Problem is there isn’t one for me. For as long as I am me, I am my own destruction. I do have regrets. Time cannot reverse. My head pounds and tires me out. A final thought: As much as I believe in God and ask for forgiveness, I don’t think there’s a spot for me in heaven.

  1. murdershewrites posted this