Internal Conflict
Location
It has no face.
It doesn't need one.
I know it is not friendly.
I feel it tighten around me.
It tugs on me, it binds me.
I am suffocated by its poison.
I am being consumed by its hate.
He does not hear me.
Nor does He want to see me.
I know He is tired of my constant excuses.
I am made from the dented pan called humanity.
I am not able to break the mold.
This curse I was given from my forefathers.
Imperfection will be the death of me.