Litany for the Living

By: Adalain Sans

forgive them.

forgive them.

forgive your father for jumping instead of thinking.

forgive your mother for choosing grief over motherhood.

forgive your brother; he does not remember that night.

forgive your grandfather for choosing a kinder death.

forgive your grandmother for forgetting; time asks that of us eventually.

forgive the uncle who leaves before his anger becomes language.

forgive the aunt with fire in her throat.

forgive the cousin who took what fed you.

forgive the cousin who says nothing at all, because sometimes silence is his own kind of love.

forgive your first love, he was young enough to mistake wanting for knowing.

forgive the father of your son for arriving before he knew how to stay.

forgive your lover, still learning how to heal without bleeding on those who never loved him.

forgive them all for being human.

and then

forgive yourself.

for surviving with teeth clenched.

for mistaking endurance for strength.

for the versions of yourself that loved people who could not hold what you offered.

forgive yourself.

it is your first time living here, too.

---

Adalain Sans is a poet and novelist from South Florida whose work explores inheritance, tenderness, memory, and the ordinary rituals that keep people alive. She is interested in the places where faith, family, and longing intersect, and in the quiet resilience found within everyday lives. When she isn't writing, she can usually be found in a cozy book shop or at a local farmer's market.