A look at pain

Sometimes I imagine that the angels are looking down on us with such sympathy, knowing that our pain is only temporary, and willing us to know the same. 

Last night if I could have punched and screamed my way outside of my body to escape my present circumstances I would've.  I want to escape forever. I want to never come back.

But I can't. 

So afterwards I find myself exhausted and broken with only one option. I curl up and command the world around me to disappear as I go deeper into myself. This is not worth it. I tell myself. I know life is not worth these tears.

There is no retribution.
There is no safe haven. 

Pleading with God is the least that I can do. Why did you give me such a moral conscience? Why can't I just be the person that I am without any consequence? You've placed people at every corner of my life to intercede so that I might fulfill my potential.

My potential? 

God why is it that I should have potential in the first place? If you wanted me to be someone then why didn't you make me someone? Why did you make me who I am? Why must I go through this life, these circumstances, or this pain in order to shape me towards my endless potential? 

Like a sculpture to a marble slab you've shaped me from the beginning, and yet I'm still unfinished. Still I carry such weight where the rest of my body should be. But maybe you should have left me there.

Why should people care so much about my potential? 

It's not worth it.
I'm not worth it. 

I am nothing more than a disaster. I am the humanoid typhoon. I do damage to others just by existing. Just from me being me I am causing so much pain. 

So. 

Much. 

Pain. 

I don't want, nor do I deserve, to want what I want. And this is what I plead to God and this is where the angels look down on me with such sympathy and if only I could see what they see and know that this pain is only temporary ... 

And someday I might be a masterpiece. 

If only I could get through this pain.