i know what you’ve done.
you’ve killed and raped and tortured and beaten and fought and destroyed and ruined
i know what you’ve done
and i forgive you

you’ve lived dominated by shame twisted into darkness wrapped in a comfortable blanket woven with self loathing

And i still forgive you
i see you i know you
i know what you’re thinking of
the subtlety holds the answers

you know it too. you know the lives you’ve ruined, i hardly need to tell you, reader.
yes, you.
i know the crimes you committed and only pretended to forget

and if you don’t, if you think you’re an exception then i pray, i pray for your sake, that you remember

i know the lives i’ve ruined too. the evil i’ve exhaled the suffering i’ve created with my magical hands

yet
i forgive myself.
not really but writing makes it more likely to come true someday.

i hope reading this does the same for you.

but i forgive you as you are, and i love that most evil
that least worthy
that most hated and gross part.

and i’ll keep loving it until you learn to too.