They say forgiveness is a virtue, but I’d rather keep my anger.

No matter how many times you clean up my wounds

Clean them with alcohol and wrap with gauze

My scars will always be there.

The very scars you caused

With the shiny blade of the kitchen knife.

As you cut and slashed at me

My tears and blood seeped into my own skin.

So no,

No matter how many times you weep and bow at my feet, I will...