Penance

What are you allowed to demand from those who have hurt you? Or is it nothing at all? When your body begs, is it calling for reparations or retribution? When the accused is laying at your feet, what's the moral gradient of demanding tithe for sins brandished onto you? The pain kisses flames onto our burning skin, heating up an inferno of hurt and rage. Do you give mercy or enforce justice? Questions left unanswered, embroiling in an inner torment of holding on and letting go — not knowing if casting off will lead to a paradise island or the sunken depths. But the anchors root you to the past, holding you prisoner to something someone else did. Marks on your soul singed from malicious indifferent. How it stings to be so affected by another person.