I want to say thank you. Thank you to the ones that have treated me poorly. That have taken my past and pointed it at my throat like a sharpened knife. We all make mistakes... so why use mine as ammo in your already loaded gun with enough bullets to destroy an army of your so called... Family. I love you. I love your shots at me while I'm blinded, holding only a sign that reads, "enough". Your wants overrule any needs I may have. Being selfish is your right. Misinformation is your game. I cannot be controlled, though you may try.
In my back yard I have buried my past, my wrongdoings, and wrongdoings onto me. I've tried to end this. Flowers began to grow, I saw the sun, the colors, felt the warmth... And now? The clouds have overtaken and all I see is the uprooted ground that once was my salvation. The ghosts have risen from deep within the soil to greet me.
I want to say thank you. Thank you to the ones that have treated me poorly. I know who I am. Do you? I know now that I cannot forget or bury my past. But it can be forgiven. I forgive myself even if you cannot. I have learned that the only thing I need to do is let go. I may be followed by my ghosts, but I am not haunted by them and it does not define me. Your bullets do not harm me. I feel no ache.