I forgive you.These three words are not so hard to say. But should they be?You who have made me what I am today. Yet I forgive you.  I forgave you then.I of seven – a horse to be whipped.A body to be shamed.And for Middle School I was ill equipped. Yet I forgave you then.  And I forgive you now.You scarred me, but I didn’t know itUntil I was out, and fourteen I was. And still I was seven in a playground. You at the top and I at the bottom.  You were with friends; I was alone. How did that make you feel?While I stood at the bottom looking up. You looked down.  Did you feel proud?  I still remember now.I was there at seven; when I was fourteen. You were laughing. You and friendsLaughing at me, but that wasn’t it.Your faces like suns couldn’t brighten more.  It was a game; we were playing a game. I played a [ . . . ]