“My insides are exhausted. My head is cloudy. As I tilt my head back on the pillow and sink further into my bed, I am overwhelmed with a guilt. This feeling that just by existing this far into life, I have done something wrong.
Sometimes I am never enough and mostly worthless. The devil, I know, he lives in my mind imploring me to question the whys of tragedies of the past. To question God, I cannot. Patience, I tell myself. I have always believed that with time all the reasons come to light.

So I wonder not, why, ever. All I want to know is the whole truth hiding in my memories. The snippets of flashbacks are torturous,yes,but they make me question their reality. I feel like a fool that maybe I experience this angst and rage for no reason except for the devil’s game in an attempt to distance me from my God. But then I hear a faint and tired whisper from my heart, reassuring me that the daggers thrusted into my innocence were real. I feel my insides crumble as my eyes swell and an instant lump forms in my throat. I fall apart. “