In the event I drink liquids fit for automobiles and devour
the taught warm light of a match, I hope you know that
I won't say sorry for all the hardships I put you through.

I won't say sorry for the way I stormed through doors
and plowed through hearts. I won't say sorry for the way
I told you yes when I really meant no. I won't say sorry

for the time I cried over spilled milk and shrieked over
stained sheets. I won't say sorry for leaving you without
even so much as a formal goodbye, other than this one

which was scrawled on the back of an unused napkin in
the middle of a crowded Starbucks down in the city, this
being the first time I've been in either place. I won't say

sorry. Not to you, not to anyone. As for now, I bid thee
fairwell, from one poetry lover to another. I won't say sorry.
For I've already managed to blurt it out seven times.

The world around me slows to a crawl,
No one around me knows me at all.
I look over the crowd of familiar faces,
From various times and different places.
They laugh and they play, one and another,
All with secret pains, I’m just like the others.

why can't i write about happy things?
i want to tell of love,
of breathless nights, and twinkling stars
of soft grass and beautiful sunlight
but the words will not come
the phrases don't string themselves together
all that i can tell of is the hurt
of the days of being lost and forgotten
of the loneliness that overwhelms me
i know this world is beautiful
but it won't reveal itself to me anymore

Forever haunted by the words you say.
Forever haunted since you've gone away.