I Don't Forgive You

You never had to say it, they just watched how you looked at me. The pauses, the distance, the way you let me disappear quietly. I stood there waiting for your eyes, waiting for a hand, a sign. Sometimes I asked for a hug, sometimes your stare could kill me instead. I learned to move like glass, I learned how not to exist. No, "How was your day today?" Just air... and emptiness. You were there, and you never saw me. You were there, and you never saw me. I saw warmth when it wasn't for me, saw love handed somewhere else. Don't tell me you didn't notice, you chose exactly who you left out. Even when I wasn't talking to you, my voice alone set you on fire. Your mood would turn to rage, just hearing me be alive. I watched you soften for other voices, I watched you turn cold with mine. You didn't need to push me away, your eyes already drew the line. You were there, and you never saw me. You were there, and you never saw me. No fists, no shouting, just teaching me not to exist, you liked it that way. You died before I ever said it. That almost felt like mercy to me. Not from hate, from fear of standing where you could see. I think you knew. I think you saw. And instead of love, you chose silence as authority. You were there. And you never saw me. You were there. And you never saw me. You were there, that's the crime. You said nothing, but your silence trained their minds. You made exclusion normal, made absence feel deserved. They inherited your lesson and never had to learn the words. You taught them all how to look past me. You taught them well. You were there, and you never saw me, I don't forgive you. I don't forgive you. I don't forgive you.