untitled - 10/24/24

and to them, i was a dirty thing, and all they could see in me was grime, and the priest's words brought me down to my knees, voice hoarsing with prayer, tearing the sin out of my throat for it did not belong there, and i did not belong either but he made me believe i could, i could if i just do one thing, one thing and it was to tear my skin off and start anew, to be same as them and to be clean, and i tried, i tried to be clean with every prayer and every confession, with every night i spent in a cold dark room with my voice hoarsing and my knees bruising, i could be clean, but all they saw in my my bruised knees and hoarse voice was still the bitter taste of temptation, no matter how much i tried to wash it out, still the grime, still sin that sits in my throat, warm with an almost uncomfortably familliar taste