It's like 11:36 right now.
I have school tomorrow.
I feel as if God is some how washing my torn and dirty hands and hair clean of all the specks of sorrow and hurt,
if feels amazing.
But I also feel this:
He's just helping me grow my own garden,
"What?!, dude this is like the billionth time i had to wash you clean!, I know you can not stay clean forever!, but I'm getting a little tired of your complaining, do the right thing, and you'll be okay for now"
I pretty much have to suck in my gut, take life's punches as they're thrown at me,
and get up, and keep going.
I know YOU (you know who you are) are reading this:
I'm hurting so damn much.
I put a posture bow on my back,
but underneath it, my posture is horrible.
It's the only way I can cope....
Besides smoking cigarettes....
tomorrow will be hell.
but, i can pick myself up.
I'm going to go smoke like a...smoldering fire