I Wish for Liberation
I sit in the dark, my thoughts a storm of fragments, and I wish, not with the innocence of a child but with the bitter clarity of experience, that you would feel the weight of every wound you gave.
do you know the sharp sting of betrayal, the cruel echo of a lie, the loneliness that wraps around the heart like a shroud?
I want you to know the hollow ache of waiting, the gnawing uncertainty that burrows deep, the sleepless nights stretched out in their endless, aching expanse.
I want the weight of your own choices to press down on you, heavy and relentless, until you understand the pressure that drove me to despair, until you feel a trace of my sorrow settling like dust in your own empty spaces.
you, who sculpted misery with your hands, who wielded cruelty like a blade, are you aware of the echoes you left? do you hear them whisper in your dreams, the ache you wove so effortlessly into my days?
i could wish for storms to ravage your calm, for the sky to crack open with lightning that rends the fabric of your peace, for the tremors of regret to shake your foundation.
yet, even as I wish this, I realize that suffering does not heal, that the flames of revenge only scorch the hands that wield them.
so, instead, I let the weight of my sorrow settle, a quiet confession to the universe that sometimes I crave for the scales to tip,
for the pain to be known, but mostly,
I wish for liberation, for the shackles of my anger to fall away, and for a heart that no longer clings to the shadows of the past.
so I let the wish drift, a bitter gust of wind that fades into the void, and I turn away, searching for a release from this desire, for a way to mend the broken pieces without adding more shards to the world’s already jagged heart.
S.T. 2024
santa rosalia by roberto ferri(1978) oil on canvas
the shepherd david by elizabeth bouguereau(1895)
dancers by franz von stuck(1896)
perseus slaying medusa by laurent-honore marqueste(1903)












