skeletons

In the past few months, my obnoxiously inquisitive mind, has guided me on a journey to discover the truths about my past. It has driven me to ask the questions I have long stuffed into the deeper recesses of my temporal lobe. The questions, inconsistencies, misunderstandings, all which were completely out of my control, still maintain a powerful hold on my heart. Mistakes of others. Secretive scandal. Sins of the father. Sins of the mother. I claim to be doing this in a vain selfish effort to understand myself better. Curiosity. Incited by the ever-present reminder that the blood coursing through my veins, beating in my heart, fueling every breath, contains a genetic blueprint that ties me to this shadow of my past. My persistent questioning comes at a painful price. Reparation in jaded perspectives and sleepless nights. Maybe some skeletons are best left closeted.