Forgive- How?
To the people who hurt me and act like I handed them the knife, I hope one day as you are walking with the pride you feel at taking my power, you stumble and step onto a knife so sharp; one that pierces and makes you scream in anguish, and then you will feel just an ounce of the pain you dared to cause me. I hope one day your spit balls up in your throat when you attempt to spread another lie and I anticipate that white poison just lounging there, choking you until you have no choice but to swallow that lie in an excruciating long gulp.
I am usually stunned by a trigger, by a rush of what you did, and the electro convulsion of your dreadful laboratory experiment with me as your subject, just rushes up my esophagus, jolting me into a shudder, causing me to spill the unsettling ingredients of forgiveness all over the floor. You did it with a smirk, and you schemed too, and that is what I despise, yet now I must forgive. You gave me deceit, but I must repay you with forgiveness......... now what kind of a bargain is that! I feel like you win each damn time. Inequitable circumstances indeed. I have bandages all around my fragile soul and they bound me so tight that I must plead to breathe and then, with insult, I must unwind them, undress and redress myself each day. Excruciating, revolting...to look upon the suppuration, your cruel gift to me.
Exhaustion consumes my mind that no sleep can cure and I wander inside my temple kneeling at all the altars, beseeching courage to forgive what you fore gave. Get it? You dish it to me and forcefully I had to chew and imagine now I must wash the same dishes until they are sparkling clean while my hands bleed from the harshness of the sponge. I have flowers growing all around me, the most elegant in sight but where I stand is a garden of weed because that is where the blood seeps down and stains. Rotten soil that bears no fruits, I constantly have to pull out the thorns that your wickedness stuck into me. I could never be a rose.
How can I forgive? I see you moving on, no cage around you, you are free....but I sit with prison walls so high and encompassing me, with the key on a desk but miles away, taunting me, I can never reach. So, I have to sit behind this cage and watch you do it to others and I cannot warn them, nor can I fight. A helpless bird burning to be free, feathers stuck to my side in agony. I flutter around the cage, a desperate, feeble attempt to stand up to your might. I make it nowhere far, obviously.
Then in a dream one night, I saw myself free, standing and clothed in joy outside the cage and screaming to you that I am free. I also embrace myself while the hurt crawled out through the tears cascading down my eyes. The slouching of my shoulders and the smile on my face deal me cards of peace, the perfect aces. I tell you I forgive you and beams of light instantaneously strike me from all corners and acceptance becomes my pedestal. My heart sighs loudly and the tension is gone, all around me, there is relief. We wake up from dreams, however....don't we? I stagger, eyes flushed open and find myself against the cold jabs of the steel cages. In sorrow, I hang my head and weep like the morning dew. I am still trapped while you walk free.
When will I forgive?
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