turn my grief to grace

there is a red-hot fury growing in my chest, rising to my blurry eyes and scorching down my belly. deep breaths stifle the incessant scream that threatens my trembling throat. all my life has been satisfying everyone else but me, searching for approval from everyone but my own heart, finding my self-worth in people, all these people, their voices crowding inside my head, chanting do this, no, go here, wait, wrong choice, follow me, are you sure? one wrong move and i could lose all i have worked for. for what? what is it that i have worked for then anyway? so my worst was too much for him, but maybe my best wasn't good enough. everything i touch burns to ash, and that which i threw all my chips in for has suddenly vanished. i wake up in the morning, these rainy, bleak, gray-storm-cloud-mornings, to a cold and lonely room, next to a pool of melted wax i forgot to blow out the night before and some dried and scattered petals long forgotten, crunching beneath my bare, heavy feet. the silence, this loneliness unfolding, that heavy unspoken anger lingering between my words is slowly killing me. you'll forgive me for my sins, but when will i have the courage to forgive myself? maybe it is this anger that will save me, save me from myself.

[image via: h]

[title: allusion to Kate Havnevik's song: Grace]