ash

"and what do you think you deserve?"

and i hear, "what do you really want?"

i can't see her eyes, but i lower my head anyway, just to hide my desperation from her. i know that she sees it anyway, it's just easier like that. the Saint knows everything, the Saint sees everything, the Saint remembers everything. in the light of her mercy i shall live, and in the darkness of her grief shall i leave, when it's time.

and it pains me to realize that the time hasn't come yet.

she stands before me, silent, not even a sound of breathing coming from her. waiting for me to answer, for me to say it out loud.

i don't know what i want, - "but that's not true", her voice in my head adds, "that's just the surface".

i am afraid, Saint. i am afraid that something within me is unrepairably broken, and that it will take over. i am scared, Saint, that i'm losing something fragile and vital that i will never be able to get back. i am terrified, Saint, of the feeling building inside of me, of the tiny voice on the back of my mind that whispers and tells me to give in. and the scarier part is, it feels so good to give in, Saint, it feels so good, and peaceful, and calming, giving in. letting that something take over. and the scariest thing is, i am not that sure anymore what to believe. i know what is right and what is wrong, Saint, i hope i know, but i am so tired. i am so, so tired, and restless, and i am losing my mind. i've never asked you for anything, Saint, and you have never given me anything in return; i endured, and endured everything you sent me, and i have never tried to let go of the greatest gift you gave me. but if i will ever be able to ask you for anything, it will be the strength to fight my own mind. i will not ask, i will not plead. i will beg for this, i am on my knees, Saint, and i am begging you for help. you were so kind to me, and i took it for granted. i am standing in front of you, Saint, and all i can think about is how i want you to get under my skin and punish me with your divine hands. there's nothing sacred for me left here or anywhere else; only the secret i am taking to the grave. the secret only few could uncover, and you are now one of them.

now, can you see, Saint, why am i here, before you, praying that you will heal me from my demons? i have a war raging in my mind, me against the devil who got into the farthest corners of my brain and corrupted it forever. please, Saint, let me be okay again, make me alright for the first time in my life.

and the Saint looked at me, hollow eyes full of tired wisdom. i couldn't see her gaze, i never could. but i could feel her looking at me.

and she said,

"you'll have to stay on your knees a little longer, then".

- i am not your healer and i am not your savior, - she said. - you don't answer yourself to me, or anyone else. your burden is only yours to carry.

- why are you telling me this?, - she asked. - what use am i for a lost lioness who doesn't even realize she has fangs? what use am i for a seagull with broken wings who can't even find her home?

- no, i will not heal you, - she said. - this path is only yours to wander. you have suffered long enough, but if you want to suffer more, i will not stop you. this is your decision to make, not mine. i have seen those like you struggle and win, i have seen those like you struggle and fail. i was you once, and you were me once, and someday, you will become me again. the right of choice was given to you out of my endless love, not malicious spite. and i will stand by it. you are a burden, and you are a nightmare, and your mind is a horrifying place. but i have created you to be happy. you were brought into this world to experience joy, and sadness, and anger, and peace. you were designed to be okay. and if you look close enough, if you dig deep enough, you can remember that feeling. i was you, and you were me, and maybe you weren't happy, but i was happy once. i know what it's like to hurt, and i know what it's like to live. you will breathe again, and if you keep going, you will find that you are already breathing. you just need to let your lungs feel the air.