These memories that we salvage become part of us. Being stronger and jaded, all at the same time. Where's the sense in that?? Where's the sense in goodbye when all began with hello. One word I sometimes wished I never said. But then I wouldn't be here today to bask in the glory of what's left. There should be a warning on some people. "Beware." One word that I would probably have ignored anyway. Where's the sense in that?? The heart overrides the head and I liked it. For a while. Where's the sense in that?? Now that I'm stronger and jaded at the same time, I've learned. Sense doesn't have a place here. Where's the sense in that??
It’s forgettable- the number of times I was called a “fucking faggot” as a kid. As a former child of god, I wasn’t expected to know what those words meant. I was taught that repentance was vital to achieving everlasting life. My momma made me go to church every Sunday. I said my prayers as I was told. But I eventually learned that Catholicism was never my sanctuary. Christianity was never my safe-haven. God never stopped the cheap shots. He never once prevented the harassment or pure embarrassment that I felt from the words of my “kin in Christ.” Now, picture me- a helpless faggot, blinded by the incandescent lights of an old catholic church. I was home from college spending Spring Break in my former hellscape. So, naturally, my momma yet again made me go to church. This time, on a Wednesday. It was Ash Wednesday. When I was among the folks from home, I felt out of place. So much that I’d imagine camouflaging myself. Like saber-tooth in hiding. But the difference? I had a far mo...
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