to forgive and forget?

Actually -this- is the way this is supposed to go: I shout—violently— my voice blood-thin and my hands jittering and my lungs heavy-cold and I -shout- this time— echoing around me is my own, desperate prayer although—I don't suppose you'd ever understand. You were breathing the whole time. And maybe I'm supposed to hold onto the inviable memory like the child was alive this whole time, wandering wisp of life— but no—instead I -scream- while the sunshine blooms and everything is warm and soft and safe and I am still -shouting-, waiting for my breath to finally give out.