I Forgive You

Of course, you judge me so easily,

From your unshaken pedestal, so high.

It’s simple to point at my cracks,

When yours are hidden, or perhaps, never formed.

You’ve not walked through my storm—

The kind that turns skin to stone

And heart to fragile glass,

Shattering at the slightest touch.

You see the weight I carry,

But not the mountains I’ve climbed,

Or the cliffs I’ve clung to,

With nothing but hope to hold on.

Your words echo with certainty,

Telling me I’m unstable, too much,

As if the scars of my survival

Are proof of my failure, not my strength.

But I forgive you.

For you cannot comprehend

The language of my wounds,

Written in ink too dark for your page.

I forgive you for needing to judge—

To make yourself feel safer,

More whole, more secure,

As if my chaos threatens your calm.

And I forgive you for being human,

For seeing only the surface

When the depths are too deep to fathom.

I hope one day, you’ll learn.

But until then, I will carry on,

Knowing that the weight of your judgment

Is nothing compared to the strength

Of what I’ve already survived.

~RMC