There's some skin left on the floor of the living room from when I decided to shed some sins off last night

From when I decided that the grip of guilt on my bones was too heavy for me to continue walking on

From when I decided that the tears must stop staining my cheeks with the aftermath of the guilt that has me chewing the insides of my cheek

From when I decided that I must drive away the fear that won't stop its knocking on my heart

From when I decided that my mind is no place for memories to be floating adrift

From when I decided that I should stop believing that the night stretches its arms out when it knows I'm awake

Because when the moon catches sight of me with my eyes open, she dares me not to close them

Because when I keep my eyes open for too long, it's hard to tell apart the images my paranoid brain manifests from reality

It's hard to let go of the things that I know will never be; hard to see that they don't necessarily define me; hard to understand that the things I hope for may not be the best ones for me.

So I shed some skin last night, and I'm sore all over. But I pray that this time, I may be able to start anew.