Learning to Close the Temple Doors

I am a temple built for apologies, doors always open, arms always wide.They come with their careless words, their thoughtless actions, leaving muddy footprints across the sacred ground of me.And when they whisper "sorry" like a prayer they don't mean, I become both priest and offering— absolving them while sacrificing myself on the altar of my own kindness. My forgiveness falls like rain on barren hearts that never learned to grow from the water I provide.I wonder if love is supposed to feel like drowning in my own compassion,or if somewhere between their taking and my giving, I forgot that mercy should flow both ways.Perhaps the holiest thing I could do is learn to say no to those who mistake my grace for weakness,and save my forgiveness for hands that know how to hold it without breaking it.

—yawnsproutieee🪦