Sinner

by Meriam Ziyadeh

I remember when you said to me, 

that if God can forgive, then who are we not to forgive? 

I told you that I forgive, but I don’t forget. 

Yet you seem to forget that I am not as merciful as God. 

And I am not Jesus; 

I won’t die for your sins. 

You seem to forget that the scars might be light on my skin, 

but trust me, they are much deeper within. 

I will forgive, but I will not forget  

the way that I was shattered. 

I will forgive but I will not forget 

how you showed me that I was the last thing that mattered 

just so you could feel temporarily flattered. 

So forgive me for not moving on from the past. 

Forgive me for giving up on the hope that one day,  

maybe we would last. 

Darling, I told you, I am made of glass. 

I break and I shatter, 

and now it’s turned into a battle— 

a battle between me and myself. 

I warned you once, 

and I warned you twice. 

And after all the chances that I’ve given, 

you still seem to believe that my heart’s made of ice? 

But again, I apologize. 

I apologize for not having it in me

to commit to a heart that I tried fixing, 

when all it ever did was break me. 

I apologize for accepting your love

but denying your efforts of allowing me to trust. 

But please, believe me when I say that it’s not you, it’s me. 

I wanted to stay, but it looks like I need to leave.