Soul Flowers

A poem of personification.

I don’t think I can’t forgive you,
But maybe I can.
If I close my eyes tight enough, 
Maybe your manipulations will disappear. 
No, that’s not healing. 
It’s a disease that spreads faster and faster, 
Inside my soul.

Resentment is like a field of flowers.
You grab one and rip it from its stem,
Its earth that grows is no longer feeding it.
The flower can’t live without that connection,
Earth that nourishes its stem.
Your heart is the same, 
It is the earth for your soul.
When you resent, 
You are slowly killing the piece of you that shines,
The parts of you that create your life.

Forgiveness isn’t about them,
It’s about me. 
I must forgive the parts of myself that feel shame.
The flowers in my field that I want to tear out,
Flowers that weren’t wrong,
Floral patterns on the surface of my soul,
That my pain moves me to want to pull,
Hold onto the resentment and rip out myself.

It’s not worth it.

I forgive myself for feeling shame,
I forgive myself for resenting you.
I let go.
I will not let my flowers die.
I will let them thrive and grow.