I’m always saying sorry
A quick fix
To a long problem
I’m sorry for the things I said
I’m sorry for the anger I expressed
But while this time I am still sorry
I do not regret
Interpreting a Cold War
As a threat
In escalating this situation
And meeting it head on
You locked me into this battle
Do not act like I am it’s only combatant
My fate
If not from my own hand
Then whose
If not from my own hand
Then
Why did they not hold out that hand
And help
And if from my own
Why did I not take it
To my own neck
Wrap it around
And squeeze
The little things
They add up right?
But what about the tiny things
The microscopic?
If you can’t even see
My bones in a microscope
Not a single fleck of white
Does that mean all those little things
That took up so much time
That made me
And unmade me
Does that mean they didn’t add up?
Is unfortunate
But I found out
The baseline
Almost feels worse
No extremes on either end
But does that mean
There is no reason for anything?
I can’t get up;
But I can, but I can
I can’t get up;
But what will I do if I can
I can’t?
Maybe it’s because I wasn’t the first
Maybe it’s because I wasn’t committed enough
Maybe it’s because in the grand scheme of things it didn’t seem so serious
Just one night
Doesn’t seem so bad
Just one night
Doesn’t change someone’s life
If there was a permanent reminded
Some open wounds, some scars, some physical after effects
It wouldn’t be treated as normal
But no
We went home
And life went on as always
The only difference being
That I slept
And I slept
And I slept
All that time
Looking for the light
So when I find it
Why do I close my eyes
Lick my fingers
Snuff between them
The candle’s flame
That shone so bright
Just to smell
The scent of
fleeing smoke?
Isn’t this what love is?
It burns
It burns
It burns
Until I hate
With a fire that keeps me blazing
With a smoke that clogs my senses
To keep me from knowing
All the damage I’ve done
To keep me believing
I have not crossed
That precarious line
Between keeping a house warm
And burning it down
I feel them not in my throat
Nor the back of my mouth
But on the roof of it
I trap them there with my tongue
Pressing up hard so I don’t gag
With the force of wanting to keep quiet
It’s not that I can’t just say them
It’s that I want to pretend not to exist
For a little bit longer
I can tell from the look in your eyes
I’m completely to blame
I’m the tree that fell over
Onto your good mood
I’m the quake that toppled
Everything you’ve ever done
But I’m a tree that fell
Because of all the tiny little things
Eating away at me
I’m the earth that quaked
Because the constant grating
Caused me to slip
But those are things not seen
And so of course
I’m always the one
Who breaks
Who rages
Who’s always in the wrong
And so of course
I’m always the one
Who, in the end
Is so easily condemned
It’s not so much a fog
Nor a heaviness in my bones
I am everywhere
Torn apart
I fill the room
The house
The world
I hear
I feel
I see
Everything
I cannot possibly lift myself up
When everything around me is weighing down
Poetry Woe is Me 