Momma prayed daily, I specifically remember the mornings before school she'd sneak in my room, anoint my forehead as she muttered words under her breath to her god. Undoubtedly her favorite person to speak to. She'd pray for safe travels and drama free days. She'd pray that I'd retain knowledge. She'd pray for my physical well-being. Thank you momma I made through life unscathed. But momma why didn't you pray for my mental health? Why didn't you rebuke this anxiety and depression like you rebuked the physical weapons formed against me, they didn't prosper maybe these mental ones wouldn't have either. Maybe I'm to blame. My lack of faith in religion or my lack of faith in medicine. Daily I wonder what the bullet would taste like, I contemplate what I'd choose for my last super, I act out the roles of Jesus and Judas. Unrighteousness flooding my cerebral cortex, Tennessee Whiskey flooding my kidneys and liver, weed and nicotine blackening my lungs all somehow simultaneously. One of these vices gripped to my soul will eventually get the job done.
I Pray.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Journal Of The Nameless And Faceless
No FicciónThis is my journal, a slightly egotistical, self centered, loving, faceless and nameless guy.
