I Forgave Until I Didn't Poem by Achu B

When you cut me a little
and said sorry,
I forgave.

When you held my lungs tightly,
made me wait,
suffocating in your absence,
and said sorry,
I forgave.

When you threw the heart
you stole
into the dust of fate,
and said sorry,
I forgave.

When you let my organs spill,
decaying,
soaked in your smell,
and said sorry,
I forgave.

When you cut my finger
with the ring you gave,
forced it on,
and said sorry,
I forgave.

When you held the glass of
red wine,
blood draining sweetly
down your throat,
and said sorry,
I forgave.

Now you've buried me,
six feet under,
the soil damp with regret.

On my grave:
"I forgave."

But you never listened.
Never heard me—
not like you did
when I breathed.

- Achu B