swell
I forgive myself for being myself, oh ye of little faith in I--for the eyes, the green ones I did not inherit, no matter how I wished for them. Forgive brain folds light and dark, their inexplicable pattern of restless city. My teeth for being slightly terrible and the sugar for ruining them. Forgive childhood’s neglect, sodas for breakfast. This mouth now paying for it. The dentist who whispers I’m sorry when he sees my tears slip sideways silent. I am cranked all the way back. Forgive. For mouthing hymns instead of singing them. Forgive the mirrors because it was never their fault. Nor winter’s fault. Nor the one who had you first or the one that has you now. Forgive our wants for their different paths, for this habit of wandering off into thick green. Be it curious or compulsive or inherited need to leave--I forgive my mother’s empty seat, a storm receding. For damning myself as a means to punish someone else. How unremarkable to suffer at one’s own hand. Forgive every doctor’s guess, forgive pain’s lesson, repetitive. Forgive vacancy of uterus and her what-ifs, years I still count as if counting counts as presence. I release the would and won’t of it. Forgive earth for not stopping her orbit when I truly needed longer minutes, and forgive minute for being a thing I adhere to so much of my existence. As if dopamine or depression care about the body of a clock. Forgive the need to assign words to what cannot stand syllables. Forgive memory for growing rust so swiftly. Forgive habits that won’t die and death for being a part of life and for departure’s necessity. For leaving being messy. Forgive failure for feeling like home and aorta’s bullet holes. Object permanence didn’t mean it. Forgive the jean racks for not hiding me forever. Forgive what I dare not speak of, forgive not speaking. Forgive the unmended for staying split. Forgive this desire to name every wave of want flooding throat. Let high tide take it all.
I forgive myself for being myself, oh ye of little faith in I--for the eyes, the green ones I did not inherit, no matter how I wished for them. Forgive brain folds light and dark, their inexplicable pattern of restless city. My teeth for being slightly terrible and the sugar for ruining them. Forgive childhood’s neglect, sodas for breakfast. This mouth now paying for it. The dentist who whispers I’m sorry when he sees my tears slip sideways silent. I am cranked all the way back. Forgive. For mouthing hymns instead of singing them. Forgive the mirrors because it was never their fault. Nor winter’s fault. Nor the one who had you first or the one that has you now. Forgive our wants for their different paths, for this habit of wandering off into thick green. Be it curious or compulsive or inherited need to leave--I forgive my mother’s empty seat, a storm receding. For damning myself as a means to punish someone else. How unremarkable to suffer at one’s own hand. Forgive every doctor’s guess, forgive pain’s lesson, repetitive. Forgive vacancy of uterus and her what-ifs, years I still count as if counting counts as presence. I release the would and won’t of it. Forgive earth for not stopping her orbit when I truly needed longer minutes, and forgive minute for being a thing I adhere to so much of my existence. As if dopamine or depression care about the body of a clock. Forgive the need to assign words to what cannot stand syllables. Forgive memory for growing rust so swiftly. Forgive habits that won’t die and death for being a part of life and for departure’s necessity. For leaving being messy. Forgive failure for feeling like home and aorta’s bullet holes. Object permanence didn’t mean it. Forgive the jean racks for not hiding me forever. Forgive what I dare not speak of, forgive not speaking. Forgive the unmended for staying split. Forgive this desire to name every wave of want flooding throat. Let high tide take it all.
Comments
Post a Comment