unwarented guilt.

and even then the sick churning boils in my pit.


because everything is as it should be..

i succeed in whatever i choose just as easily as i breathe.

i do what i want and have no one or no thing to say otherwise.


my existence carries a sense of importance..
far greater than that of the average human.

every inch of my being sharpened..
razor thin imperfections shattered finally

by the realization of the self.

and still i am plagued by how unfair this all is?
why am i..?




but why?

why soil in guilt?

had you not bathed in that acid of adolescence?

and not that adolescence that the ball-less heathens whine of..

but the un heard of that you suffered through.

haven't you endured enough hell to allow yourself this earned perfection?

kinda..

more like yeah.