The hope that there is a God
who sees my pain and hears my cries
has left me feeling incredibly stupid.
I am longing for something
that has never saved me.
I am the biggest contributor to my own suffering,
always believing in things that do not exist.
This longing for what I’ve never had
leaks into my connection with men,
secretly wishing one might be good,
wishing one might save me from the very pain
they themselves inflicted.
But the one never came.
The one is never coming.
I’m a fool.













