grief is still groveling at my feet.
grief won't stand up and face me.
grief won't go away.
grief is still groveling.

forgiveness is a heavy, hollow thing
burrowing into my chest,
gathering all my warmth.
I try to send it home to you,
but the farthest it's ever reached
is the back of my teeth.
it doesn't want to go.
I can't let it go.

I ask sorrow where it hurts
and it points at me.
I ask rage where it's been
and it points to you.