Who knew that the pain I spent my whole life preparing for
is the type that will hurt more than I can ever say, and know that even with my own best graces, will stain my soul like a scar can in the worst sort of way.

I prayed that it wouldn't but that won't work anyway, but not because I don't have a god, but probably because I don't know what to say.

So I just lay on the ground and let life happen to me,
and it'll happen again, it will happen to be
the only happening thing that happens as often
as a soul ******* thing that loves to make my soul soften.