Redemption//Ruin

I am in the midst of remembering a time when I was redeemable. I was made new. Whole where I had been wounded.

I no longer feel redeemed. I don't feel like I can be remade. These wounds run too deep. Damnation is inscribed on my bones. My own words pierce through my skin. Every breath I take intoxicates me. HOW THE FUCK DID I LET MYSELF BECOME THIS?! ... I am ruined. Not the beautiful kind of ruined, but the kind that deserves to stay buried under lifetimes of paved roads and built bridges.

I am a thing of the past. Not quite human anymore. Salvation is a fairytale for someone like me. My heart is crucified daily by the regrets running rampant in my veins.

There is no safe place. No sanctuary. No hopeful ground. There is only me, with all of my pain, misfortune, rage, and misplaced truths.

I used to be able to grab onto the hands that reached down to save me. I could hold on and be brought up into beautiful light. I could wash off the dust of yesterdays, and I could make myself appear as if I belonged in beautiful placed with healed people. I used to think I could be somebody, but it was all a performance. As soon as the curtain closed, I was back to being my old miserable self.

I am tied to myself. It is a mystery as to why I am still breathing. I have died inside many times, and my heart never stops being crucified. My bones are crushed, my spirit is drunk and my soul is poor. I am ruined, and this time I am ruined beyond the hope of redemption.

-AshleyAnne