Searching For a Way to Forgive You (Poem)

I try not to think of you
or the crack of a rib
or the split of flesh
under the knife
or how quickly
blood flows out
and away.

I try not to think of the way
you have always been older,
the way you still gather years—
the way I am left with
shadowed hallways
and echoes
and so many different ways
to say
dead.

My brain is a house
with all of the lights on;
my heart is locked doors.

I’ve learned to make
my voice a key,
a switch.

In the absence of
my father I am still
a girl disguised
as a woman.

I am still searching for
a way to forgive you
so I can taste a bit of
the peace I was promised.