I Too Have Wounded

I remind myself certain offense comes like a storm—sometimes too sudden, tearing me at the chest before I can even prepare,
I remind myself that mind sometimes twists the words harsher than they were, even sharper than they were meant,
I remind myself that my body sometimes trembles as if struck, though sometimes it’s only our pride being wounded,
I remind myself the same wrongs I despise have lived in me too, waiting in silence.

I confess I once snapped at a friend a sibling or even my parents, not for their fault but because I hadn’t slept for days,
I confess I lashed out at a stranger, forgetting they could also be carrying burdens I couldn’t see, or I chose not to see,
I confess I once traded my peace for other people sake, expecting an applause, for small fame I thought was noble,
I confess my rudeness has sometimes left scars too, words thrown thoughtless into rooms I never intended to be repaired.

I believe my anger is my own mirror that shows me where I’ve almost fallen before,
I believe my compassion doesn’t erase any kind of injustice but it makes it honest, and less cruel,
I believe my strongest mercy is born not from pity but from all of my shared weakness,
I believe nobody dreams of being cruel, being judged, being mistaken—but we sometimes stumble out of hunger, fatigue or even fear.

I believe the cure for anger is a forced memory—the nights where I too failed, the mornings where I too begged for patience,
I believe humility softens my rage, kneels beside the wrong instead of standing above it all,
I believe patience doesn’t excuse, but it helps me explore, and that is enough to understand me,
I believe forgiveness frees me first, unchains me from the poison I brewed for the other.

So I choose to meet offense with a reminder, that I too have wounded, and I too will be wounded
So I choose to disarm my rage with my own brokenness, my own truthful confessions,
So I choose to carry gentleness into stormy days, even though my hands still shake,
So I choose to recall the nights where I prayed someone would forgive me, still they did,
So I choose understanding, because I cannot demand why wouldn’t I give it away?

Watchwords:
• Offense is my mirror
• Forgiveness frees me first
• Humility softens rage
• Compassion grows from weakness
• Mercy is the choice I keep making

Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, “Who am I?”..

As and will always be reminding you to dream:
“As you are still the Master of your destiny and the maker of your dreams…”

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