Day: Feb 10, 2021

Maybe I don’t know how to forgive,

Only how to forget all that I had to give.

And perhaps I wasn’t meant to be here,

Wasn’t meant to boil over or sear.

It must look foolish – how I beat on

After being burned by your pale neon.

Somehow the road ahead still unravels

So I cut my feet open on rough gravel.

It hurts just a little more every day,

The fire I carry keeps falling off the tray.

But I stich the nasty wounds up nicely,

Cut open those who try to defy me.

Even when the cross crushes my back

I carry my anger, keep it intact.

Perhaps a quieter time will come,

I’ll make peace with what I can’t outrun.

But if forgiveness is only a myth,

I’ll be sure to find everyone

Who made me take these hits.