uncharted

3/13/24

i’ve never been good at forgiveness.

i smile as i swallow my resentment, as it grows larger and more venomous, weaving through my rib cage and wrapping its tendrils around my heart

with every “it’s okay”, every “i’m fine”, i swallow it over and over again, the rumination watering the seed of a burgeoning grudge.

i say i forgive you, knowing i’ve never truly forgiven anybody in the moment, knowing the waves of my heart pull in the pain caused and push it into the depths of my sea, too far for even me to catch and release

i’ve never known the lightness of letting go, of getting over it my body still bears the weight of others’ weathered wrongdoings, if not on my chest then on my mind it’ll slip out between sentences, be nestled beneath a laugh, a brief reminder that absolution has yet to come, that i haven’t forgotten, that i can’t

my eyes and my heart work together to morph the faces of those i once loved into something ugly with claws, my glasses no longer rose-colored but instead tinted navy blue like a bruise, like betrayal

i could count the grains of sand on the beach in the time it takes me to heal i could swim across the pacific and back, keeping myself afloat with the familiarity and skill of only someone whose heart's depth could be likened to that of marina’s trench

i’ve never been good at forgiveness.