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...