Grip

I am angry.

Your words from the past are ingrained in my mind, they won't let me alone to proceed on my journey. Like anchors, they pull me the only way they know how - down. I can't climb until I shed this weight from my shoulders. And it took me years to realize that flashes of happier times are simply glimpses into the mind of deceit.

I've searched it over, but don't find it in myself to forgive you for the days you sinned, for the minutes you let slip by when prayer was called. I can't forgive you for the words not memorized and the actions not taken. For lying to me.

I have words for you. For my sinning self: I will smite you with all the strength left in my body, even if it means death. Resistance is futile.