Had she done the right thing?
And by right thing
what or whose standards
was she applying
to measure the moral correctness
or lack thereof
of what she had done?
She had grown sick
and tired of considering
every angle and X-factor,
sick and tired
of a brain
hellbent on sabotage.
Self-forgiveness,
as a conceivable balm,
seemed faraway
and unreal,
but she would travel
whatever vagaries of distance
kept at bay
who she was
from who she was
determined to become.