Swallowing my own venom

I bite my tongue and inject poison into my system. Its slow-eating, creeping effect is like acid erosion from the inside out. I try to maintain composure, smile and nod and even laugh occasionally.  I have to, I have no other choice. But even as I try, my ugly insides cannot remain clothed, encased. The festering is obvious and annoying. I'm a monster, infecting myself over and over again with the very poison I myself have created. The recycling of poison in my system manifests as the nagging, insatiable, tormentous wife who tears down hopes and dreams. I look on with dull, listless eyes to the earnestness and titillation springing forth from your shoulders; the me behind my face screams with shame and apology for the way I am, but it doesn't crack the exterior of detachment, dispassion, or disdain. I leave God to smite this wretched, vile soul of mine for there is nothing else left for Him to do. 

Not quite

Undeserving

God chose very well for me despite my unworthiness. Thank you Lord for my husband. 

"Daddy is mad"

I have no words to describe my disappointment. In myself, mostly. If I could keep myself as far away from him, maybe I won't remember the way back. Then going our separate ways won't feel so bad. Because the closer I try to get to him, the more painful the burn of rejection is. Sadly, he doesn't understand. Even this when he reads it, is nothing but trash. 

Nothing pisses me off more than realizing something that is common sense known by most intelligent people...

Explode

What is it that I am looking for? Why can't I find contentment in this? What is so wrong with me? 

I want someone to tell me I'm okay, that I'm normal. That my crazy isn't crazy. That I'm just a dreamer and its okay to feel dissatisfied sometimes. I want someone to tell me I don't have to feel guilty. I want someone to tell me they love me the way I am. That my abnormal is normal. That I'm just a romantic and it's okay to feel crummy sometimes. 

What is it that I am looking for? There's no such thing as a perfect rainbow. What's so wrong with me?

That perfect note. That perfect ocean. That perfect embrace. That perfect sentence. That person strum. That perfect heart. 

I want to be good. What's so wrong with me?