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H Prose: A Sinner's Prose

August 12, 2019


I found myself in the darkness of day, and the brightness of night. I cast out demons in array, and traveled to vast lands in the landscape of my mind. I have fought like a warrior in the fiercest of battles, a war against myself. After that, you cannot tell a person much because they have learned the terrain of their soul like they know the back of their own delicate hands. "She is not broken" they whisper in shock. "She is not damaged" they writhe at the truth. I am sorry that it hurts to look at me in my glory, scars bared like the snarling teeth of a hound. Do I scare you at this height? Looking down upon the world in a birds eye view, watching, watching, watching as they climb mountains with the notion of shooting me down. Even the arrows cannot penetrate the fleshy armor of my skin. Bounce back. Ricochet. I am everything and nothing all at once but why does that terrify you? Does it remind you of nights spent in bleak darkness, begging and crying for it to be over? Or does it remind you of your bare feet in the grass at the young age of four trying to catch butterflies in the drifting breeze. 


You cannot hurt me, nobody can. Only I can hurt me and I have done it time and time again. Self destruction was a hobby until I exorcised. Deconstruct. Reconstruct. Build. Fall. Collapse in on me while I sink in the deep, deep blue. Blue of the water which pools in the depths of my mind, waiting to cleanse me of all sin. 


Sin is a foreign word brought by foreign men who tell us we must bloody our knees to worship an unforgiving God. It is a word used to strike fear in the hearts of many but I have cast out my demons and I see sin as a separate entity. An abstract thought that is now far away in my memories. Memories of sitting across from a priest who put his hand on my knee, telling me to go and pray four Hail Mary's.


"For the sake of your soul"

For the sake of your goal

To have men and women everywhere fear you


I used to be afraid of the dark, and the things I did not know. Fear would course through my veins as I thrashed through blackness. Nightmares of dark rooms with creatures lurking in the depths of the shadows. Shadows that played like a film in the walls of my mind which held me, bound like the criminally insane. Have you ever heard the metaphor, the one of the cave, when Plato explained to Socrates that ones experiences shape their beliefs. They freed a man who was chained to shadows and when he saw the light he wept tears of pure and utter pain. It was too bright, it was too much, he could have sworn his own eyes were melting at the intensity of this brilliant light. Well, that is what it felt like, when I realized what should be feared lurks in the light of day. Shadows whisper secrets that you don't like to hear but they are secrets none the less. The light exposes you bare, like a man and a bullhorn calling for evacuation because the city is burning down. There is an ugly truth that turns beautiful once you adjust. The light and the dark do share that, that ugliness of truth. However the most danger lies in the light of day. As time passes the fear fades and here and there I find myself looking over my shoulder as if I am being followed by mad man. 


A mad man called sin.


This time though

I know

When he knocks

I won't let him in.

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