Forgive Me

The house that keeps me from moving
That lets me rest because I must, rest
These legs that have mastered the stairs
 for now, maybe, for a while
This face that you love, that I will never
 love
And this hair I refuse to press that you
 press your face into
 and no one near me knows how to
 comb, which enrages me since
 I have been trained to manage, to cut
   to arrange anyone’s hair
Forgive me this rage that means we may
 not visit South Carolina, though
  I am used to Tennessee and North
   Carolina—
This rage that makes breathing difficult
I pant in my sleep as if running
 from what chased my kin and would
 see me dead if I am not careful
Forgive the truth that I won’t stop
 speaking to you and others
We know how others hate to be seen
 through, and there is nothing a man
  won’t do if a mirror is held before him
Forgive my inability to keep friends close
 but you would not love those who are
  unkind, and too many are
I may be wrong, forgive me, my brother
 is unkind and you are kind enough
  to forgive him