regret nothing

forgiveness is supposed to spread my skin flush. leave me with a glow and some sort of rush. but i kick up dust where tar was supposed to be. i regret nothing i repeat it in my sleep


still i see the dead trees i once called my home, the burnt field that was green until i lit a match to it, the river water i filled with my own ink and would use to wipe the red off my palms. the effort that i put into doing everything wrong.
i regret nothing
not the pain i saw in other people's faces, the way it etched ribbons beneath their eyes. every broken limb i cut off, far away from the trunk because i didn't want it to grow back. every root that spread under dying soil, and how i refused to give it light. maybe a little water sometimes, enough to hope for life.

the cruelty of salvation, the crippled realization, the fact that i'm forgiven.
how i want to believe, how it makes no sense to me. oh lord to let me be
to simply accept my apology
and to ask that i forgive myself
for my own soul for my own health
means that what i have done is
permissible, acceptable
deserving of love, deserving of light
and worst of all, meant to be
determined by you
and chosen by me.
so excuse my audacity
when i don't want to know and i don't have the strength.
i am nowhere near worthy
but i can't walk away.