I Forgive You

I forgive you—

not to absolve your name

but to unclench mine

from the place you buried it.

I was never meant

to live in someone else’s shadows,

to dim while you burned

on borrowed time.

You kept me quiet

like a number with no voice,

like I was something to fold

and hide in your pocket

when the world was looking.

But I am not shame.

I am not silence.

I am not the pause

between your real life

and your lies.

I forgive you—

because I refuse to stay

inside the hurt

you don’t even carry.

Because I know now:

you didn’t treat me like I was less

because I am less—

you did it because you are.

Your choices

were never a reflection of my worth—

only a confession

of your own.

So no—

you don’t get my hatred.

You don’t get my ache.

You don’t even get my name.

You get forgiveness—

not as a gift,

but as my freedom.