i don't hold grudges

I have had them since forever,

Like that mole on my shoulder

They drape that colour,

That evil colour of frowns

And align themselves, some on my heart

but most on my brows.


Why do you have them, a dear friend asks

I don’t have them, they have me

each night, little by little,

when my skin wears out from m cuts

they have me, they consume me!

But she doesn’t understand.


So she asks again, but why?

I calmly repeat,

the older skin would have forgiven and

the newer me would too

had not her soul be blessed largely

with all scars and anxiety and pain.


And then,

my friend asks again,

How long will you have them?

Until I have gone far away from myself

that my scars seem like harmless little grains.


She sighs and says,

One day you’ll forgive them and this is toxic, you will see for yourself

Laughing and sipping on my steamy poison I say,

toxic is not my thing either,                  

and sure dear, one day I might do that

just after I would have forgiven myself!

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