Poem: How to Not Forgive by Trista Mateer

How to Not Forgive

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When I was small,

I remember my mother saying

that she believed aliens helped build the pyramids.

She used to keep crystals around.

She used to carry healing stones.

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She used to believe my father would always come back to her.

Now that she is older,

she prays to the nail marks in someone’s palms

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but i don’t think she believes in forgiveness anymore.

She sent me to Sunday school in little floral dresses,

not to torture me but to learn this.

Hurt me once: shame on me.

Hurt me twice: shame on me.

Hurt me three times: shame on me but fuck you.

Hurt me four times and we’ll get severed-head biblical.

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We will pick up stones.

And now that I am older,

I don’t give a damn about sin.

I will be the first to cast one.

(A poem from this amazing collection)

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