i remember your hands around her throat
and how she mistook it for love
and how she thought it meant you’d never let her go
and i remember your words and how you chewed up any kind ones you possessed and spat them
as if they were dirt on the bedsheets as if to tell her she meant nothing
that she was as impure as any kind thing you had ever done
as if to say you meant none of it
but i heard your heart break
and i saw you try and bury it beneath your ***** words
but the cracks poked through and i am sorry
and i remember your feet and how much heavier they sounded leaving, and that sound became my heartbeat
and every time your feet hit the ground i felt them in my stomach, but i took the violence because if you weren’t going to stay at least the bruises would
and i am so sorry i can’t forget
and i am so sorry that sometimes i am still stood alone at train stations, or pressing my nose to frosted glass, waiting for your distorted figure
and i am sorry i am still bruised
i am sorry that i am sorry
i am sorry that i cannot forget
but i have forgiven you
i swear
i promise you that i have.