Saturday, March 30, 2019

Parole

For the longest time, I was a prisoner.

But today I was paroled.

Unexpectedly.

Once in a blue moon, I would receive a letter, at times it would be wrapped in pretty words, most of the time, just some shabby sentences.

Full of fear I wasn't aware of, I thought each letter was sent to prolong my imprisonment; years long of fear, not knowing which day the sentence will come.
Full of anger I wasn't aware of, I felt each letter was sent to toy around with my mind, like the boy who cried wolf, puzzled me of which cry for help to believe.

And the irony of it all, the letter was always filled with apologies.

But what to fear about apologies, you may ask?

They felt, for the longest time, like punishment,
for I know they were never sincere,
for I know they would lose its meaning in split seconds,
like phases of seasons, like wolf in a sheep's clothing,
for I know each time I open my door of forgiveness or plant seeds of trust,
they will come to dawn disappointment on me,
for I know forgiving equals punishing myself for further heartbreak.

I was learning the hard way that apologies without change is just manipulation,
and that my forgotten forgiveness would find its way to manifest as sharp, blood-thirst desire to survive, to ease my pain.

But today, I was paroled.


Did the verdict being lifted off of my head? It did not.
(I heard kid babbling, noises of nonsense, I played a fool to know the extend of it all - I let it be)

Did the false title being smeared away from my name? It did not.
(I heard the devil shall embody beauty, but this one with a Judas' kiss, came without it - I let it be)

Did my fear, my heartbreak, my aching, were being acknowledged? They did not.
(Two faces, smell of malicious intention, different words in front of only me and in front of us - I let it be)

At last, did it matter about the wrongdoing I had to endure?
For today I was paroled.

I could've done what pleases me, or
I could've done out of predictions and loops, or
I could've warned you about the devil, and
I could've map out its very apparent the string of blooming manipulation.

But if I done so, this time around I would fail at saving myself.
Knowing about the doom, knowing about strings of lies that would be put on my name, this time around, I am saving me by choosing to keep it to myself.

Free.

Today, I was paroled.

No longer a prisoner.
No longer having to see my compassion being wasted down the drain.
No longer having my jar of forgiveness fed onto someone that values them for nothing.

And for the love of God, I am on my knees.
For the love of God, I am begging for mercy.
For the love of God, I am offering my gratitude.

For the day where apologies I receive won't taste like a bitter pill and heartbreak waiting to repeat.
For the day where my forgiveness will only find its way to those who find abundance in them.