I wonder what you see when you look at me
I am a stranger, but
there are things you think you know.
And you think you are right.
Every time, your apology
turns into a justification
for the cruel words you threw at me.
Somehow I feel like I understand you
but then I wonder - why?
I could just label you *****,
plain and simple
but I know too much of your own
sorrows
to justify myself.
It just adds to the never-ending
ebbing, pulling,
deep down
pool of grief
we all love to swim in.