Grudge is the canswer

There is more to myself than me,
you can't walk in my shoes, they're rooted to my soles.
It's in you waiting, insinuating
the clean slate wiped onto my face
is dying.

Inhaling the waters of pity;
lungs like a river
fighting the undertow grasping at my shattered shins.

Like a boulder kneaded by the waves I'm reduced to a grain.
Staple a pink ribbon around my brain.

Hunted not for my pelt
which is softer than felt.
But because I showed I felt.

You only truly appreciate the light
when you're stuck in the dark.
Where do I go from here?
Heaven is full
and not even hell will have me.

Karma is promised, and has no definitive schedule.
So watch your fucking back.

It will hit you like the mental hammer you thrusted upon me.

You want to believe in an afterlife
so you may suckle at redemption,
but you're scared of death.

I've been tossed to the lions before,
over and over and over and fucking over again.
So don't you dare lecture me on your actions.

You battered me into a corner,
where I settled in and grew comfortable.
Even a coffin can be home when you've settled in.

I'm out now.
But my head is still nailed to that corner.

Thank you.
For making me stronger
and weaker
at the same time.

It's never over.
It never ends.
A timeless loop.
A barbed limbo
dancing in my skull.

Hold me close, push me away.
Chew me up, spit me out.
Set me ablaze, put me out.
Pick me up, kick me down.

Every day is the same cycle.