by Lordom Grecia (Class 2021)

Forgive yourself,

they said,

because that was

the only way

to start over again,

to be whole again,

to live again.

I want to,

oh trust me

I do,

but if only

it were that simple.

If only

I could forgive myself,

after everything.

 

But how can I forgive myself

after I let my walls down

again

despite swearing

never to do it?

How can I forgive myself

when I let people in

to my fragile sacred spaces

again

only to let them leave

after they break what they touch

and leave me

in pieces

too many to count

and too difficult to put back together?

How can I forgive myself

when I never seem

to learn my lesson?

I knew

I couldn’t trust anyone,

and I had to rely on myself.

And yet

I broke my promise

to myself.

 

Tell me how

I can forgive myself,

when

instead of putting everything back together

I threw the pieces

against the wall

and shattered them

into tinier fragments.

Tell me how

I can forgive myself

when

instead of stopping my wounds from bleeding

I made

more shards

with which I can be cut.

Tell me how

I can forgive myself

because

I want to know.

Tell me how

I can forgive myself

because

I need to know.

 

I need to know

because

I am tired

of the endless cycle

that I subject myself to.

I want

to forgive myself

but

I can never seem

to find it in me.

I want to

but

I don’t,

and it never ends.

 

Author’s Sidenote: This was originally written ca. 2015 (so pardon the weird font, I had a phase. I’m too lazy to edit it now), but has since been performed twice as a spoken word piece, both during OTN’s Open Mic Night (2017 & 2018)