Forgiveness Should Have A Price
A Prose Poem Originally Published on Medium
The trauma I kept like a lover who wounds me, brought to me by words of ignorant youth and doubtful adults. I went from a little girl with potential to an adult who wasted it all. I am supposed to forgive the ignorant youth who are now adults, the adults who are now seniors. This is supposed to be for me but I know that once I say “I forgive you” they will walk away never feeling the blade that is still stuck in my back
Is time supposed to dictate when the knife is pulled out of a wound? Why should I forgive the people who were allowed the innocence of youth, meanwhile that innocence did not exist for me? They can look back fondly at all the songs played on the radio but I cannot listen to anything “old” without mourning what I have lost. I cannot enjoy my childhood things without bursting into tears, having lost all the joy they took from me.
Nostalgia is not a feeling of longing for me, it is the pungent spice in the bitter, greasy stew that is my life. They call themselves “stupid kids” back then but does that mean they are now “stupid adults”? They are allowed to laugh while I can only look at the floor, trying to find that one thing that would add color to my memories. They get their childhood while I never had one. Are they really sorry?
Is forgiving them really “for me”, or is it for their children who may never know how cruel their parents were at their age? What will that parent do when their child receives what they gave me? Will they finally understand how words can weigh heavier than a stone? How me saying “I forgive you” will not erase the sleepless nights that I still have over never feeling enough. They will NEVER know real loss.
I DO NOT forgive you.
I am NOT SORRY for not forgiving you.
You may have taken my childhood from me but you will never take my forgiveness.
I hope the salt of my tears makes everything you eat taste bitter.
No, you were not kidding when you said to me “I hope you die.”
I never forgive the people who have stabbed me and refuse to take out the blade.
Why should I forgive the words you have so carelessly aimed at me?
You would never forgive the people who have harmed you, so why should I give you the same?
I. DO NOT. FORGIVE YOU.
About the Creator
Kelsey O'Malley
Canadian Autistic writer! Creator of the Breaking the (Autistic) Code series, Autistic Woman Vs, and Who is the Real Monster!
Want to support my work? Consider donating to my paypal at @kelseyomalley
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Comments (3)
This was so powerful! I totally agree with you!
Sad and powerful. Well done.
Thank you for sharing!!💕 I'm sorry!! I remember sticking up for a skinny girl that was always teased. Her father worked at the dump and she got that teasing too. She was plain and very thin with glasses. I was Native American in the most prejudice place I ever lived. I understood being teased. Years later she had turned from a plain Jane to a real beauty! I hoped those mean boys got a look at her then and she had no time for them! 😉 I forgive as I don't want to carry it around with me. It works for me. Someone told me once as a child that 1 finger pointing at me, there are 3 fingers pointing back at them. That helped too. Now, I don't think about it until I read something that triggers the bullying!