I need to be cleansed.

My soul is decaying and filthy,

Too filthy for my happiness.

Maybe, if I tie enough knots in my chest,

If I bottle and display my guilt,

I can deserve a fraction of this life.

I choke on one am tears,

Scream at the sob-stained mirror face,

And beg to be fixed.

I just want to be whole,

But I’m a gaping silhouette of a person,

Unsettling to the eye.

I am filthy and wrong and ugly inside,

And I know I deserve it,

But that doesn’t mean I want to.

Please help me, please.

I could drown my past, leave it to rot,

If it meant being someone.

I want to be worth something.

I want myself to be acceptable.

I want to be clean.

Am I too far gone?

Could anyone ever think I’m worthy?

Could I?