Forgive

Forgive me
in advance
I know not what I do
at least
in the moment before doing.

I stumble on this path
sometimes realizing
after
what it is
what I have said
what I have done
to hurt you.

i think sometimes
out loud
but on paper
or would that be
the blank canvas of this page?

So often
i let the words
dribble
and run
into my
my moments
not seizing them
not taking them hostage
making them
account for themselves.

Then,
without reason,
i grab a pen
or a keyboard
and make them
make themselves known
to stop
the cycle of words
without
known
consequence.

they now
commit
to ask,
why would I want
to be them?
Heads bowed
backs bent,
against and under
the weight
of
stares
arms draped down
in
anguished leather
of fingers pricked
and worn
under a machine
within dark enclosed space
the only sky
the sound
of
someone counting,
again
and again,
the worth
of
their
breath.

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