FORGIVENESS

Forgiveness
by Sharon R Ziegler

I thought perhaps when I
stopped feeling hot, molten lava in my gut
whenever I thought of you…
that was forgiveness.

Or when I finally
slept through the night unaided by pills and
the nightmares subsided…
that was forgiveness.

Or when I let myself
speak your name
and not choke on it as it escaped my lips…
that was forgiveness.

I don’t think it’s forgiveness
when my fingers are still
firmly gripped around your throat.

And I may never forget.
I don’t know that forgetting is possible.
But I have to let go of your throat.
Your life is not mine and mine is not yours.

Someone still sees you as redeemable
And as long as that possibility exists…
It’s not my job to be your judge and jury.

And as I let go, my fingers are sore
And your neck is bruised.
You were breathing anyway.
But now I’m free to feel something real.