The Struggle inside

I have this craving deep down inside. Not the kind you would expect. I have a craving to feel this particular pain, remember this particular event. You see there's this piece of wood deep down, splintering my insides. It's sharp and roots run deep in my core. It's hard to forget its there but sometimes I try so hard to forget. That's when the pain gets worse, the splinters get deeper and I remember. There's nails and blood forming a human inside me, shoving me to the ground, ripping my flesh till it's bare, till I remember. Every cell in my body feels the nails, tastes the blood, and tries so hard to reject the thorns digging through my skull, I have to remember, it won't let me forget. A savior, a warrior fighting through me, inside me but I don't want to remember, I'd rather stay weak. I'm over here counting pennies till I'm rich, cutting my skin for some attention, taking pills till I'm thinking, embarrassing myself so I'm remembered. I want to be remembered, not him. But that's when the splinters turn to thorns and cut through the prideful part inside, the most painful part to endure. While I'm over here slamming doors in your face, struggling to survive when I don't have to, your knocking on that wood pushing it deeper inside, remember me, remember when I took my life to save you. I can't take it anymore, I rip open my flesh one sin at a time, tearing myself apart. The thorns digging into my my hands, the splinters stick inside my skin. The blood is leaking on the ground, swallowing my hands in my red. I can feel the wood and I yank it out of me. It's roots are deep and it's thorns are sharp but finally, just finally I remember. As I am lying on the floor covered in my conviction, in regret, I am begging for forgiveness as I hold that wooden cross in my hand. I remember O' God, I remember what you did for me. All is well, I am forgiven, I recover from my own guilt and shame, forgiving myself for trying to forget, purposefully sinning against him. But then I feel something, something sharp , growing, like a piece of wood splintering my insides.