The Invisible Inclination
For years I lived tilted.
Not toward evil. Toward weight.
A subtle inclination of the soul:
to prove, to compensate, to deserve.
Every molecule of my being carried tension.
An invisible contraction.
An undeclared debt.
I breathed… but I held back.
I loved… but I calculated.
I served… but I feared.
I was not at peace. I was in fragile balance.
It was a discreet darkness. Polite. Religious. Accepted.
The silent conviction of never being enough.
For debt is a disease of the soul.
It consumes you without making you bleed.
It makes you kneel without visible chains.
It makes you fear a Father who is already waiting for you.
I walked, I prayed, I served… but inside I was a debtor.
I did not know I was in a prison.
Because the prison had no bars.
It had only one thing: a lie.