The stove is off,
you can let go
your constricting grip on safety.
I forgive you
for continuing to carry the habit.
I forgive you
for holding a grudge grounded in hurt.
I forgive you
for hours spent worrying,
with no real power to change.
I forgive you
for wanting —
trying to fill a hole of murky origins.
I forgive you
for the hovering
masked as parental care.
I forgive you
for wondering if you are enough.
I forgive you,
I forgive you,
I forgive you.
*inspired by Dilruba Ahmed’s poem “Phase One”. In the poem, Ahmed repeats, in a flood, I forgive you — making a safe space for the acknowledgement of things that hide in the shadows for each of us.
A Reading Life 
Your slice, leaves your reader with strong thoughts. It spoke to me and I read it a few times. The title, your first two lines and the photograph are compelling.
“The stove is off,you can let go”
LikeLike
I agree with Juliette. I also read it many time. The repetition works so well to create a strength, all about an action humans struggle to do – forgive.
LikeLike
Incredibly powerful repetition. Those final lines felt like a release.
LikeLike
This is beautiful and powerful. I re read it to try to figure out if the person needing forgiveness is you or someone other than you. Leaving the reader without that answer makes me wondering.
LikeLike