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Forgiveness Of The Golden Boys


I am in love with more boys than I can count on all of my fingers, and for that I forgive myself.

I forgive myself for forgetting the boy who substitutes his first name for his middle name because it fits him better.

I forgive myself for thinking about the boy who speaks about the rain as if it was his friend, and not his greatest inconvenience.

I forgive myself for listening to the boy who manifested life itself with his voice, and composed the breath in my lungs with his hands.

I forgive myself for being constantly reminded of the boy who had a smile that reminded me of the sun on a bad day, and the moon on a good one.

I forgive myself for laying next to the boy who couldn’t find his place in the world, and tried to make me lose mine.

I forgive myself for watching the boy who danced just to turn his overwhelming grief into certain harmony.

I forgive myself for giving so much to the boy who played with the seam of my jeans as if he already knew what was underneath them.

I forgive myself for holding the boy who loved me in the spring, but needed to find a new girl each new season to feel as if he was “growing”.

I forgive myself for expecting more from the boy who held me tighter than a denim jacket when it was convenient for him.

I forgive myself for abandoning the boy who invited himself into an empty house before inviting himself into my vacant body.

I forgive myself for believing the boy who used the word love as an anchor instead of an emotion.

I forgive myself for trusting the boy who gave me roses dipped in gold when all I wanted was his hand.

I forgive myself for forgiving things that should not be forgiven.

© 2018 Xandra Lang

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