I thought with his death

that forgiveness would come

that I’d somehow forget

all the things he had done.

I thought with his silence

that I’d find peace at last

that I could somehow move on

and leave the past in the past.

I thought with him gone

that I could forget all he said

that I could block his voice

from clouding my head.

But I sit here today

still tortured by the man that he was,

still devastated and broken

from his lack of love.

I wake up each day

and can still hear his voice

as he ridicules and tells me

I always make the wrong choice.

I walk with his ghost

weighing me down as I live,

incapable of mourning

and unwilling to forgive.

Maybe if he said he was sorry

It would have set me free,

But apologies that went unspoken

Left me a prisoner of his memory.

And, so, forgiveness eludes me…