offering your heart to a world that doesn't know how to hold it

"you of little faith," were the words i heard as i hear plates crashing in the living room, as i smell the fire burning the sheets on my bed, as i feel the bruises on the sides of my arm, as i sense the pounding of my heart, writhing to leave my chest and fall onto the floor. bloody & wounded. & here i am hearing these words: as if to spite me & mock me - "oh! i, of little faith."

ROTTING FOREVERMORE. | KI , 2018

"I'm a ghost haunting the halls of my own home." - Father, A False God.