forgive me, father, for i have sinned

rocks in my chest. acid in my veins. feeling too guilty to breathe tbh. restless to fix my mistake but paralyzed with fear of the (probably nonexistent) repercussions of what i’ve done.

maybe i am not living correctly. maybe i need to live like i’ll die when i’m 30. i do want a child when i’m 30. is the birth of a child the death of a woman? no. if that were true, i wouldn’t have a child after all.

i feel a clawing need to repent for my sins. to go to a priest and beg for forgiveness. to drop to my knees and pray for absolution. to light some candles and ask the gods for guidance. really, all i’ve done is miss one (1) meeting. but it feels as though i robbed a homeless man. it feels as though i kicked a dog while they were down. i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m