Prisão

The viscous toxin amasses - a potent darkness invading lifeblood, flooding the system with destructive intent. Not venom of a defensive serpent. No scorpion sting. Not even the plotting of a rival. The poison is self-inflicted - blackness created from within.

Forming judgments, holding onto resentment is self-imposed harm that is an internal fire that scorches oneself more intensely than any other. I have those in my life that hold onto grievances that span decades. While their perceptions of time seem locked in the past without the wisdom that others evolve, learn, transform over time is strange to yours truly. Often confronted with these criticisms I am at a loss to recall the offensive words, actions or intent that is attributed to me.

Much of my past is obscure; an observer casting a gaze from shore over misty quiet waters in the still of morning. Only faint images with little notion of time or sentiment surface, the only testament of my personal history remain. Is it my fragmented recollection or my willingness to absolve that permits me to move forward without this disquiet others cling to? I cannot control the judgment of others and carrying such negativity is their burden. Like a fair-skinned lad venturing to the shore on a blistering summer day; I better have my sunscreen against the burning rays of cynicism.