Paint Us Gray: Part 2

Not My Enemy

Not My Enemy

This year I have limped around, cursing those who have wounded me, the seamstress who cut lifelines. I've been replaying each instance of pain, gathering my evidence against the accused. I've been fighting to incarcerate those I called my "friends" to have the satisfaction of having them confess to their crimes.

What good has this done for me, the world, you? Nothing.

Instead, I've locked myself up in a cage. Bitterness has clouded my vision. I've been preoccupied with thoughts, hopes of battling and reconciling with these exes, smiting my abuser. Trying to raise the dead with the dull edges of memories. But here is the reality- they are not my enemies. No. Even they are a part of my family, the same shared blood, and the real enemy is one we share. It's the evil that rapes, murders, diseases, isolates. An evil that has attacked each of us. It's an evil that sometimes takes up residency within us.

To the boy who crawled inside of me,

you are not my enemy.

But I will spearhead any hand that seeks to defile another,

the same breed of darkness that consumed your parents and sought to choke you out,

crushed your windpipes and made you greedy for my air.

To the man who snipped my harness,

you are not my enemy.

And I will drape grace over your brokenness

and clutch onto the blessing you gave me

so I remember that there are beautiful broken men

who know how to care for beautiful, broken women.

To the woman who dropped my heart on a hot stove,

you are not my enemy.

And while I'm battling my inner demons,

I'll swipe my sword of prayer at yours.

We are all fighting the same battle.

I remember now, that there is a much more heinous creature that we are all fighting. Let's remove our arms from each other's throats so that we can all concentrate their tips on our real enemy.