Victoria, forgive yourself
You spent years in the darkness
windows closed, doors locked shut.
Alone, you bled as each mistake
seared your skin for eternity.
We never learnt to say
‘No,
Stop.’
only ‘Yes’
brushed the tip of our tongues.
I felt the backbite every single day.
I was bruised beyond repair by thirteen.
Victoria, forgive yourself
Every mistake shines like sweat on your
skin.
You take every hit as if your skin is made
of armour,
not glass.
You never shatter, but you shatter too
easy.
Count the bruises on your skin,
the blood droplets on your fingers.
You blame yourself for every mistake.
You always said ‘Yes.’
Victoria, forgive yourself
because
you were deaf as a child,
blind on your wedding night
and dumb throughout marriage.
Victoria, forgive yourself.
Freedom does not exist but
if you open the windows, doors and your
eyes
you can hear and see
as I make your mistakes,
wear them like a banner across my chest.
You never taught me ‘No’
Only ‘Yes.’
Victoria, forgive yourself
and I can forgive you.