January 6, 2015

One day I'll set fire to the remaining parts of my sanity because sometimes I feel that I'd be better off completely insane rather than living in fear of when I'll actually go insane.
But don't mind me, for your story is what clearly matters most. Your story tells of my sanity remaining intact. It tells of my youth not being altered and my childhood memories not being obliterated. 

You mock me and you scoff at me and you lie to me and you conquer every part of me, but inside I know you're afraid. I know you're afraid of what I know and you're afraid of my power.
But the unfortunate thing? I'm afraid, too, and you eat that up.
I'm afraid of you. I'm afraid of your lies and your scoffs and your mockery and your power. I'm afraid to close my eyes at any given moment in fear of seeing your face that has since been tattooed on the backs of my eyelids to remember forever. I'm afraid to love anyone or anything because you unintentionally taught me how to push love away and how to be that girl that everyone grows to hate. I'm afraid of letting this get so far gone that it's too late, because you basking in your freedom is the very thing I wish to take away from you, along with my innocence. Along with my youth and my goodness and my importance. I'm afraid of how lucky you are, of how convincing you are, of how apathetic and strong you are. I'm afraid of what God will think when he asks me why I don't love you.