stations

i am no longer a bystander, living in the normalcy of day to day life. i am there. with each blow, my heart flinches. every crack of the whip sends tremors through my frame. i just want them to stop and every time i think it's over, they keep going. you stand up again. in every drop of blood. why do you do this? for me?
why can't i stop them? my love! my love! is this my fault? stop whipping him! he doesn't deserve this. it would have been unbearable enough for you to die the horrible death. but they beat you. they spit on you. they hit you and laugh at you and scoff. they keep whipping you, mercilessly. with every step, through the streets and up the hill. never ending blows.
stop. stop hurting him.
my heart is fresh with guilt, with tears, with pain. i hurt you with pride. with laziness. with gossip. with jealousy. with fear. with omissions. sometimes i wash my hands of you. sometimes i deny you. sometimes i turn my back and forget you. sometimes i provoke you. sometimes i do not believe that what you are doing is what is best.
and i weep, i weep for my sin.
my love, forgive me.