save me from myself.

I feel like all I am is one
huge

mass

of regret.

A coil of ropes, impossible to untangle. That's what I am.

I've said so many wrong things. So many careless things. How many times have I blurted out a harsh comment and seen the pain flicker across someone's face? And I try to pretend that I didn't notice. I try to pretend it didn't happen.

For, if I slowed enough,
I would feel sick. Wholly disgusted. I would feel how dirty I am and the bile would rise in my throat.

And I'm always too scared to apologize.

That is the worst kind of coward.
Someone too scared to speak up and admit they were wrong.

But that's me. A coward.

I never stop to think of what I'm doing.

I am recklessly extravagant in my choice of words, my way of living, my
hurry
hurry
hurry
to get by without stopping to feel the extent of the shame buried within me.

I am the worst friend.

The worst.

Sometimes, I hear myself talking and I want to silence that fool I hear speaking. That person's a selfish pig. She doesn't even listen to other people. She goes on and on, stifling others, complaining, scowling, sulking, sitting stubbornly.

She's a coward in denial of who she really is.

Still, this I know:

There's still a small, intense, throbbing part of me

begging

to be saved.