For My Sake

 

Holding on to my

righteous anger seems easier than

moving toward forgiveness.

 

Forgiving when there is no

apology feels impossible;

I shriek my victimization –

I am justified, and I am

gratified.

 

Fury churns inside me

and I know I am in danger

of myself. The sharp edges of my

anger cut me deeper than the other.

And I don’t wish for blood

anyway.

 

My only release is forgiveness.

Or until I can forgive, then

only release.

At the least,

release.

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