I am at war with myself

My brain is a battleground
And my face is a war zone
I struggle each day to fight back tears
That threaten to spill like blood
My shackled wrists are captive victims of barbed cuffs
Fingers that often pull the trigger posses nails that dig bloody,crescent trenches in my soft, muddy palms
My body is no man's land but my own
Yet bullets continuously violate it
When they bury themselves in my flesh
And carve the names of whom I killed into my bones
I am human
I am made of imperfections
And original sin
And my impurities are not worthy of my God
So when the time comes
And the final bullet strikes my beating heart
And terminates its mission
My soul will be lifted by the gentle, bare hands of God from my flawed,rotting body
I will be judged with fairness
Disregarding my imperfections
My flaws
And my impurities
I will be forgiven for every sin my humane body committed
I shall rest in peace on angel wings and feathers of pure white