Catch 22

Daily I see things that I shouldn't on normal occasions
I smell things that move my bowels
I wake up from a frantic sleep
I go out do my routine anticipating relief
Relief that is anathema
I find no solace in prayer for me to do so would mean to implore divine intervention for something unthinkable
I wallow in pain.
My life on an indefinite pause.
Bearing a cross that I can't unburden
I don't know what to believe anymore.

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