A Caçada

I am the prey, the hunter, the bow, the arrow, and the target.

Blindfolded, I begin a merciless hunt, hoping to claim a trophy for those who never deserved it. Yet when the chase comes to an end, all I find is a wounded heart.

Like a starving predator, I sense fear in the air and follow the crimson trail of guilt left upon the ground. I battle myself, trying to kill the stigma I accepted carrying for far too long.

I realized too late that no hunt ends in triumph when the hunter and the prey inhabit the same body. There is no glory in pursuing a bound monster, nor in hunting a wounded animal.