All My Rage

by Sabaa Tahir

Half of forgiveness is saying sorry, she once told me.

A stab of self-hatred pricks me, and I dance with it.

Wondering how someone who filled up a room could fit into a box so small.

Nothing kills anger faster than pity, and the hope in my father’s voice shoots my rage dead.

“Kindness is not foolish, my heart.” He put his arm around me. “Anyway. At least they didn’t steal the pictures.”

“You can tell me your secrets, Abu,” I say. “I’ll hold them for you.”