The reason I don't forgive now is sane.
I've learned they'll continue to do the same thing.
They only feel bad that I've sullied their name.
It's that they got caught
and for that I'm to blame.
The guilty want me to relieve them of pain,
to convince their conscience it was all just a game.
Maybe I'm a bitch to not grant them their peace.
Maybe I'm a witch and they'll watch my wealth increase.
Maybe I'm rotten from being trampled by their feet.
My energy's not forgotten,
and I know they need to eat.
but they'll bleed me too completely
and that's the bottomline.
It's my life left
and I get to decide this time.
I'm healing on my dime.
Using me for my brine.
Replenishing with my wine.
They know of me a taste divine.
So, I locked my cellar doorways to the forays left behind.
They took my cake before,
but now the tasting's all mine.
About the Creator
chillbaby5000
chillbaby5000 was diagnosed in her late 30's with PTSD & Autism and is finishing a poetic account of healing trauma, depression, & rage.
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Comments (1)
"Maybe I'm a bitch to not grant them their peace." Oh I'm definitely that bitch! Your poem was so powerful! I loved it and your artwork!