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The Vine

March 3, 2012
tags: ,

There a great ugly vine inside of me that grows up and through me and strangles everything that is beautiful inside of me.

And every time it kills something more it grows bigger, it grows stronger and grows so very much hungrier.
It started in my gut and grew until it reached my brain and there it still remains,
leeching and feeding and whispering insidious things to me.

It fears the beautiful, the truly beautiful being the truly pure as you no doubt know.
And this vine that is made of ugliness and loathing and taints all it sees can only be dealt its deathblow
by the touch of the pure, the touch of the beautiful.

Tonight it’s in my throat, wrenching it tight and I dread to say it, but it feels somehow right,
to abandon all that is good and pure and beautiful, to face no disappointment, to simply be and be what this great vine wants of me.

Tomorrow it may occupy my hands and feet, guiding them to places they shouldn’t go, to do things they shouldn’t do.

No law is there against my crime but punishment weighs heavy on my mind.
And if tomorrow I should stray, forgive me, for I could not forgive myself.

One Comment leave one →
  1. March 3, 2012 10:16 am

    Scarily honest…purely amazing 🙂

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