Something some search for their whole lives, Something some are gifted right away. There is a beautiful feeling, When the person you've hurt forgives you, But often, it is even harder to give it to yourself. The hurt has long been forgotten in their mind, But you still hold on, Skin growing over the metal cuffs it binds you with, Appearing to be healed and forgotten to the world, But you know the truth. When you so much as brush that area, The pain explodes, fresh as if you had just spoken those words, As if you had just seen their face fall. I both forgive easily and hold a grudge forever, To those I love, when they hurt me, I know they love me, And I love them, And so I know that they did not truly mean to hurt me. But to those who hurt the people I love, I will hate forever. They never hurt me directly, But by seeing their hurts, They have cut me more deeply than if they had stabbed my heart. For this, I can and will hate forever.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Matilda OrwellPosting weekly on Friday or Saturday. Archives
September 2017
Categories |