How to Not Forgive
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.
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
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.
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)