here's to living life beautifully

forgive me. for one too many nights, with one too many drinks. for waking up with him not sure if I left with my innocence or if I had any to begin with. forgive me. for thinking that numbness was better than heartache and years of feeling nothing is finally catching up to me. forgive me. for not remembering and not wanting to for thinking that escaping was the best avenue well look where it led me this path of insanity forgive me. for my mental state and my splinters of reality. I swear I will get them all back. clean myself up. leave forgotten nights forgotten. forgive me. for looking backward and forward and any where but here I’m scared to live anymore because I’ve forgotten who I am. forgive me. I know I am not this girl writing this I am not the girl walking home the next morning covered in shame and uncertainty I am not this girl and I never wanted to be. forgive me.

wow do i hurt,  like being your muse was the sole purpose of my life or feeling my bones rise up from beneath my flesh will actually set me free like the blacked out nights of memories drowned into oblivion is the prescription that the doctor would prescribe but don’t get me started on prescriptions or medicines unless we are from colorado then get a prescription for my new addiction i’m writing words that my heart barely believes because it no longer knows what faith truly means i’ve hit rock bottom before but usually i care to look up but tonight my eyes fall to its favorite poisons its secret sins just another boy,  just another bottle, just another purge and you’ll find rock bottom is not uncomfortable when you paint it with your trespasses line the walls with photos of temptations given into but make sure you have a ceiling that  mocks you with memories of the girl you once were, the girl you could have been remind yourself that you can be her again but know in your heart you wouldn’t know where to begin to begin again easter sunday to start a new rebirth from a savior for the girl trapped in the bottom of a chasm  with a glass ceiling of memories  keeping her in she does not yet know the resurrection power can free her from the walls she painted with her black memories and forgotten boys she does not yet know the resurrection power but daughter when you do the glass ceiling of memories that mocks the place you know occupy will become the floor with which you walk upon the place from which you grow you’ve become so obsessed with falling you’ve forgotten you can climb

https://abbykay5.wordpress.com/2015/03/31/hello-world/