Put a camera in my heart and you’d lock me up in jail. You wouldn’t let that beast see the light of day because of how messed up it is.

I used to have thoughts of punching people in the face. Now, I still do, but it doesn’t stop after one punch. I’ve had plenty of other thoughts that scare me – how can my heart be so dark. Sorry parents if you’re reading this. I’m not right in the head.

But I’d go so far to say that all of our hearts are wicked. Put a camera in all of our hearts and we’d have an overpopulated prison problem.

Some would say, “You need Jesus.” And I agree. And then I think of all the people who have Jesus whose hearts are still wicked. I think of when I feel like I had Jesus and my heart still frightened me.

Maybe I can blame it on my parents. I’ll share some sob stories so I can win your empathy. I used to cry over a lack of food on the table. My dad sometimes slowly drove through the neighborhood and openly stared at other women. I’m so tired of feeling icky when the police officers don’t take their fucking shoes off when they walk into my home. I almost killed my sister when we were playing with the futon, and I didn’t have the courage to ask my dad for help.

Sometimes I miss being depressed because if I killed myself, I’d be okay with it. Whereas now, if I killed myself, I’d feel like a stupid idiot.

So welcome in to my wicked heart. If I ever give off the vibe that I have it all together, I don’t. I’m a professional. I’m literally trying to make money off of telling other people how messed up I am.

So grab a seat and come on in. Tell me about your wicked heart, so I at least can feel like I’m not alone.

Heart to Heart, Fart to Fart, and Everything in between