There is no cure for that which awaits me every night, no relief from what I cannot see yet fear with every waking hour of the day. There is no escape from the fingers, pointing, accusing, judging, the ever-burning question I ask myself time and time again, what, if anything, could I have done.

My body, wracked with pain screams for relief but for a moment in weakness, I cannot allow it relief. My brain fills with images and I can smell, hear and feel memories that may have faded with time but terrifying all the same.

I want to reach out for help but I feel shame, for in my mind, I am deserving of the torment that has become my life.

I long for the days when laughing came easy, life was an adventure and I had pride, self-esteem and a sense of purpose. I wonder, would I find the peace I so desperately desire in death? No, it is not a path I can take, it is the love of another in which I find some strength. I cannot allow my own selfishness to cause her pain. Within her arms, I feel safe and willing to face my demons.

It is not so much the judgment of others I fear but that which I put upon myself, the man I see in the mirror disgusts me, he is weak, he has allowed his soul to be corrupted by demons of the past that are of his own making.

I sit here in the peace and quiet, awake and afraid, but so desiring of a peaceful sleep knowing only too well it will never come to me. I feel the demons of my past reaching out, imploring me to allow them in, it is the same each and every day, there is no escape for I am condemned to relive the  past because I cannot forgive myself.





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