Trees have ben felled for these trite verses. And it's all your fault.
And speaking of blame,
it was never my fault when you called me names
And your fists fell flat on my skin.
And when you hit me,
you never broke my spirit, even when you broke my skin, left bruises and breaks.
my spirit broke the times that you called me stupid or when you made me swear past and present celibacy on my dead brother's grave.
I'm not saying I'm blameless. I'm not. I know that I hurt you too.
And if it wasn't always accidental, i'm sorry all the same.
I am shedding the guilt here.
I am giving you back this skin of grief.
And I forgive you.
I fogive me, even if you don't.
I hope that you eventually, will fogive you too.