I drip apologies like a leaky faucet. When I open up to you, I immediately follow it with “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”
Like I’m apologizing for feeling.
Like I’m apologizing for telling someone who cares about me how I really feel.
When you tried wiping away the tears I left on your shirt I whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
Like leaving a piece of yourself on someone’s sleeve is something to be ashamed of.
Like showing yourself in your rawest state is something to apologize for.
I stain your lips with the word sorry and leave the after taste of endless apologies after we kiss.
This poem is an apology to all my wasted nights saying sorry to people who never deserved it. Saying sorry as an excuse to stop fighting. Saying sorry for things that did not need an apology followed by them.
This poem is an apology for never saying sorry to the one person who deserved it most: me. I’m sorry for not valuing your actions and feelings enough to let them live without killing them with an apology.
I was explaining to my 4-year-old cousin that some spiders will kill their mate for food after they have babies. I thought this was gross, but she was unimpressed as she said, "humans will kill each other for no reason, at least spiders kill each other for food." I have never been more ashamed to be a human in my life
- eats every single edible thing i can find
- idk i think i ate an almond today