It’s my flaw,
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.
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?