Through a raging inferno

whipping through an ice storm,

I’m left to question my motives

and poised to take the blame.

But what happens if

I’m simply unapologetic?


Guilt may try to heavily hang from my sleeves,

Shame snaking as though tendrils.

Take the scissors and cut them off.


Snap at outpointed fingers.

Never back down.

Never stand aside and be blown apart

by falsehoods.


And at the end of it all,

They will ask me 

if I regret the chaos I’ve caused.


I am not sorry.