Tuesday, 31 March 2020


There’s much to forgive, and much to be forgiven for.

Imagined slights, outright rudeness, hate, that sideways glance two years ago in Tescos, shouting, ignored text messages, and the way you always put milk in my tea.

Then there’s pain that reverberates down the years. The sharpness piercing a soft outer shell 
Damaging the tough centre too 
The way teeth bite through a Feast lolly
Or an apricot
Surprised to meet resistance along the way. 
Things are changed and I want to say -
It’s ok with me, what you did - but how can I speak for the molecules intrinsically altered 
by the adrenaline rush of anger 
or for the neural pathways 
rerouted along the magnet path of rejection?

Forgiveness is great 
but have you tried can’t-be-arsedness?
It’s easier to gently pick up the remnants of a too-busy life
And then move off, nomad-like
Skimming the surface
Dropping memories into the water
Like forgotten receipts.

Nothing carried, nothing owed.

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