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Apr 2019
When I venture to speak your name,
The word is uttered with spit.
A sour taste of unforgotten blame,
Tattooed with abundant regret.

A name is said to reflect a person;
In your case, I deem this the truth.
An honest reflection, a candid reminder,
Of my wasted, corrupted youth.

To blame another for your transgressions,
Is commonly labelled a sin.
But my transgressions and faulted decisions,
Have your name to which they begin.

I accept my blame and my mistakes,
Responsibility, I do not lack.
But responsibility falters and becomes hindered,
When poisoned by a heart so black.

Innocence and purity are surely a stretch,
Something, I admit, I have little.
But that which I did is now dead.
At your hands all my thoughts become nettles.

I tried to forgive and, harder, to forget,
But forgiveness is yet to embrace to me.
They say, forgiveness heals, but my heart remains broken,
Perhaps, to heal is a fantasy?

Is it possible to let go, from a love so toxic?
Does ignorance grant me false hope?
Or is it my mind, that prevents the acceptance?
Do I tie the hangman’s knot in my rope?

Maybe one day you’ll go from my mind.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to let go.
Until that day comes, I must say,
I never loved you, that, I need you to know.
Sam Tate
Written by
Sam Tate  21/M/Kent, UK
(21/M/Kent, UK)   
201
 
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