I have not thought good of you

in secret I have cursed your name and called you darkness

laid blame at your feet as an insolent child throws down a broken thing for having disappointed them with being fragile

given your motives meaning without consideration

comforted wounds I allowed to form without want of understanding

denied any possible Truth mingled in your own hurt for fear it would be true should I consider the slightest piece of them

I have spoken ill of you in anger

letting the cracks in my own visage give me excuse to cast venom into the universe at your expense though you never heard them all, I know, you heard them

justified rage without seeing the other side clearly

avoided Conflict for the distaste of conflict only to realize in conflict lay the opportunity for peace

And I cannot call myself a citizen of light, if I give no room for it. I cannot call to happiness, if I give no fight for the things that deserve it. And perhaps most importantly, I cannot expect you to see me, as I want to see myself, if I give you no other visage to look upon.

For all this,

I apologize.

Filed under: 2016, Poeticly Speaking, Prose Tagged: apology, bad magic, forgive, forgiveness, truth