The rot ; part 1
Sometimes I wonder if eventually the rot leaves way for love,
if the thick layer of hope on my lips is enough to get myself out of the trenches,
I wonder if I’m held captive to my past because my past is just a reason to hate,
Am I in fact hateful?
do I hate the fact that it feels as though my past has deteriorated any thought of being loved future?
sometimes I just want to crawl out of my skin and soak it in bleach,
Allow every last sin to burn away at the chemicals on my skin
am I dirty forever?
is it really purity culture or just a lack of self esteem
I love myself repeatedly but it never seems to stick in the moments that truly decipher one’s loyalty to themselves
Conflict-ion of loyalty, love, and desperation.
- V.B
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