Palms crying with religious agony
Once uplifted in His name.
Clinging to the ropes
Made of razor fibers,
That stain the bathroom
I stuff the wounds
With painkillers to bring me Nirvana,
Sewn up with a noose
Threaded through the eyes of onlookers.
I become my own Alpha and Omega.
A false deity, chanting
Lullabies of a lifetime
Where the blurred apparatus
Holds the barrel against my holy temple,
Worshipped by guilt
I breathe until my lungs
Collapse from the weight of a pen,
Signing my release forms.
Stepping down, Stepping down
I save myself.
Gwynn Marie Worbington began writing at a very young age, her greatest editors and proofreaders being her younger sister, her mother, and her dog, Mattie. She finds stories to tell from the world around her, and often draws from her own experiences growing up on a dead end, dirt road in the backwoods of Texas, where cousins and aunts and uncles made up the majority of the neighborhood. Her writing is heavily inspired by her personal struggles with severe depression and anxiety, and has acted as a guide in her learning to understand and cope with the tools she has been given to live a fulfilling life. Gwynn is currently finishing her third semester of college, and when she is not writing she finds herself on the stage, performing at the local theatre.