Pride

 Here I am again.  My heart clenched tighter than a fist.  I can see a brick wall.  Stories have held me back most particularly my own but on the other side of that wall is living.  Too afraid to trust, too afraid to take action.  These drugs displace me.  Let go! Let go! I'm tired of hanging on.  The cliffs edge has never kept me safe.  I'm going to fall one way or another but I never trust the drop.  The fall, my face flush with anxiety.  The only benefit of hanging on to the last second is that you plummet with tired arms.  And to what end do you choose this living casket, a space to hide rather than house your functions.  This sweet torture is what you live for, this dreary pattern is what you know.  Pride is a rock that sinks you.  Pride is the sin etched on your gravestone.

This man is too afraid to live.  He is too afraid to live in perfection in fear that he would ruin it.  He is too afraid to live in dystopia in fear that it would consume him.  He cannot live in a promise for it may be betrayed.  He cannot live in a lie because he knows it is not true.  And worst of all he cannot live in reality for he is afraid that this is all there is.

Every breath he draws is dying.  Every gasp just drags him down.  Everyday he slowly digging, digging his place to lay underground.  He never thought of living, he barely thinks to breathe.  In his mind he holds all his space in preparation for when he leaves.

So what can we say we've got here.  What could this fellow be?  For everyday this corpse is moving though his body does his mind deceive.  Pride is the sin we've got here, too proud to ever believe.