How Dare You Forgive Me
The way you feel when you’ve been hurt more than you thought possible and you’ve hurt someone more than you thought possible but you love them so much it hurts and they don’t even know that they’ve been hurt. It’s great.
I dreamt of an old man on a park bench. One eye was dead and white, the pupil transfixed by a scar. The other burned blue. It saw. He raised a shaking finger and pointed at me. “How dare you forgive me,” he croaked, his voice the death rattle of a starved bird and a dying star.