Sins

It's astonishing how one little stack of papers can ruin my day.
It's mind blowing how ink on a paper can offend me so much.
But it did.
That book that you keep throwing at me?
It’s ruining my day.
Everytime you bring it up.
Everytime I call you a little too late at night.
I shouldn’t be afraid to pick up the phone past 7 PM for fear I’ll end up crying.
I’ll end up with a huge, gushing welt.
On my heart.
It closes, but scarred wounds hurt more than new ones.
Every time you shove this book and its sayings in my face, another drop of this precious blood you helped create goes away.
Everytime you shove your own thoughts and your own beliefs into my head, I want to scratch them out.
You can tell me to drop to my knees and repent for my sins.
You can force that holy book down my throat for however long you wish.
You can beat me with your verses and your quotes.
You can try to change who I am now and who I want to be.
You can try to make me into someone I’m not.
You can try.
Try.
Try.
But I can assure you,
You will not succeed.
You cannot, WILLNOT, ever change me into someone I’m not.
You can’t force me to become someone I’ve decided not to be.
I don’t want to live by a set of rules, a book that tries to control my life.
If you want to, go for it.
There’s no issue with me,
But when you try to force me?
You will NOT succeed.