I’m sorry.

It’s my flaw,

Saying sorry.

I didn’t appreciate what you did then,

I grumbled, refused, felt bothered when you asked I help.

I was selfish.

I didn’t want to admit I wanted you in my life,

The illusion of being better and at peace then made me proud.

But I was shooting daggers through your heart.

I banged and banged on your chest until I broke you.

I never considered you feelings then.

My words and rude noises claws that racked your patience and love,

but you still loved me,


Included me in everything.

You knew,

You waited.

But I left before saying sorry.

I never got the chance to,

By the time I was old enough to want to apologise,

there was no time,

Then distance came between us.

I was haunted,


Miserable and I still am because you died,

and I still never got to say sorry for how I was then.

I’m really sorry but it’s too late isn’t it?


2 thoughts on “I’m sorry.

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