(upon being told, for the umpteenth million time, that my sense of right and wrong is going to take me nowhere in this world)
An eye roll, a sigh
A shaken head
and a finger pointed
in my direction
The full weight
of another Human’s
Rests on My Shoulders
What was my
Is it to have taken
or to haven stolen
the bread from a Hungry
Nothing so grand.
It is my vision….
My eyes are capable
of viewing the world
in all the colors that yours
Vibrant rainbows of
Shades that astonish and Awe…
We share a common palette
An arsenal of hues
I do not see it.
I am told it is a problem.
I am told it will lead to my ultimate failure.
I am told it is an archaic affliction not welcome in the modern world.
I suffer from it, every day of my life.
It has restricted my ability to live, to love and to be free.
I was born with it.
There is no cure.
It means that I know the difference between right and wrong.
It means that I am acutely aware of the consequences of the paths I follow.
When I do Black. I know I have done Black. There is not enough paint in the universe that can turn it white.
When I do White. I know I have done White. There is not enough paint in the universe that can smudge its brilliance.
There is no absolution for Me, for anything…
It means I can not unsee
It means I can not unknow
It means I can not willingly hurt the people I love without feeling it
It means I can not accidentally hurt people I don’t know without feeling it
It means that I bear scars for my behavior that outweigh the crimes committed
There is no “easy way” with me
Does it mean that I am incorruptible?
With Me, it is the worst kind of corruption
I can not claim ignorance
I can not feign ignorance
I’m told that the worst part of all of this is….
…..I do not seek to cure myself
The glib parting shot: “Must be nice to live that way.”
My response: “I’d never wish it on my worst enemy”
Don’t hold up a Rorschach test and argue with me about what I see.