Carrying Junk

It’s not mine to take

This burden that you bear

I cannot accept the heaviness of guilt and regret that you seem

so intent to keep

Making lists of wrongs done to you

I don’t know what it must be like to walk with your past

conveniently forgetting things that don’t fit your narrative.

 

I released the things that haunted me,

it gave me no comfort unfortunately.

To ruminate and dwell and cultivate those weeds

brings only ugliness and pain, not the garden that you seek.

I cannot make you like yourself. I cannot tell you you are a good or bad. That’s something you will have to answer for yourself.

It’s not my job to give you credit or kudos, just like it’s not their job to tell me. It’s not their junk to carry.

Everyone must pull up their own junk, and choose whether or not to hang on or let go and not blame others for the problems they face.

So too, must you.

Pick up that burden or lay it down, but I will not carry it. It’s not mine to hold.

I’m letting go.

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