This StruggleMature

Its funny how it all works. But maybe not so funny. I see my reflection in the mirror, and I see the face of all that I hate most. I do not cry, I don't shed one tear. I don't deserve it. I only look away and feel the pain that is beating upon my heart. 

That mirror. 

I've had dreams where all I could see were mirrors. And all I could see was my guilty reflection. I despised myself. Anybody that loved me I had tricked into thinking I was good. Perfect. That was the only way I could succeed in being loved.

Not that I needed love.

No. I wanted it more badly that anything, but I didn't deserve it. I am guilty. I am imperfect. This rage within myself for myself is more than I can bear. Calm down. No. I am beyond calming down. I've passed the point of no return. I try things that always seemed to work. They don't now. 

Hatred for myself boils within the cauldron of my heart.

I need to be punished. Won't somebody punish me? I deserve it. But wait. This pain I feel, isn't this enough? Isn't it enough punishment to live in such agony? To not be able to sleep or eat from a dirty conscience? 

Treat others the same. Let myself live in torment. I don't deserve deliverance. I don't deserve to be happy. I deserve to continue to live in my homemade hell. 

The End

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