karma isn’t always abstract.
sometimes it’s a bloodline.
a biological glitch.
a feeling in your nervous system you didn’t ask for—
but got coded with anyway.

and one day, it calls you home.
to the dysfunction that raised you.
to the lie that almost passed as love.
to the family that wasn’t broken—
it was rotten from the inside.
held together by silence
and shame.

and now it repeats through your own reproduction.
cruel devasting karma.

or it doesn't.

you catch that shit.
you call it what the fuck it is.
and you walk the other way—
still shaking, but fucking knowing.

with whatever god still offers you salvation,
you drag yourself out of the familiar chaos.

but watching people you once loved;
live inside their own worst karmic nightmare.

it's not satisfying.
it's fucking sad.

because you’ve seen their scared and broken inner child.

but that shit still caught them.
because when they had the choice,
they summoned their fucking generational curse;
built the same broken ass home.
created an entire legacy not on love;
but on cheating, on control, on lies, on dedication to the dysfunction.

so the trauma spreads like a cancer.

because the abuse / manipulation / betrayal / abandonment / infidelity … disguised as love,
that’s the shit that lives deep inside your children’s every cell.
it becomes their burden to carry.

and that’s the fucking cycle.