Letting You Go

I am responsible for what I write,
But I am not responsible for how you feel about it. 
I am accountable for the truths I tell,
But I am not accountable for your denial of those truths.

I own what has happened to me, 
and what I have done,
But I will not own what has happened to you or what you have done.

I am free to feel my shame,
But I will not chain myself to yours.

I can forgive you,
But I cannot make your amends.

I can walk beside you through my grief,
But I cannot carry you through yours.

I look into the mirror, and I examine my reflection,
And I leave you to gaze into your own.

I will one day look into the eyes of God and seek atonement for my sins,
But I will no longer pay for yours.

Photo by Artem Bali on Pexels.com

To the Man who Stole My Childhood

To the man who stole my childhood,

I’m taking it back.

 

To the man who crept in on angel-soft steps,

You are the devil.

 

To the man who anesthetized my heart,

I feel joy, and I feel pain.

 

To the man who slithered through the darkness,

I’m turning on the light.

 

To the man who lied about  his love for me,

I know the truth.

 

To the man who hushed me with his violence,

I shout your name into the Universe.

 

To the man who stole our childhood,

We’re taking it back.