Forgiveness

You ask me to forgive you. You ask me to excuse the hurt you caused, the emotional injury you inflicted, and the scars that won't heal. You ask me to accept apologies. You want to hug my bruised memories and caress my pummelled spirit, to impart some platitude. You ask me to find it in my heart to love you. Did you love me when you battered me into submission without remission, did you love me then? Strange love to hurt so much, I recoil from your touch as you try to stroke my injured pride. I scream inside, but no sound comes out. I trusted you and you betrayed me. I loved you once but you waylaid and raped my certitude, your credibility discredited by your duplicity. So, you want me to forgive you? Do you know what I want in return? I want to release my incarcerated memory. I want to trust, to dip my toe in the water of deliverance and tango to the rhythm of love. I want to move forward. Propel myself toward the future. Yes, I forgive you, for in forgiving you I liberate myself.