Forgiveness is a bitch.
A whiny dog that paws and claws at me
scratches my legs raw
begs me to pick it up and play
but when I bow my head and bend to grab it
it flees back to its cage
and can’t be coaxed back out.
Most days I forget to feed it
I leave it whimpering in the corner of a steel cell
it reaches for me
tries to guilt me with big brown eyes
but I ignore its pleas and go on my way.
There are the few days a year when right after the Catholic mass
I attend with my grandmother
I feel as if I should give forgiveness a chance
and see how it could transform my life
or so the priest says
but when I finally get a hold on it
it squirms its way out of my grasp
and yips at the most ear-piercing pitch
whacks me with its reproachful tail
I’m giving up.
I’ll continue to live my remorseless life
I was never much good with animals anyways.