"I'm sorry" leaves my lips
More than "you're welcome"
Or "thank you"

It sits upon my shoulders
Weighing me down
A grief to drag on

It interrupts my thoughts
Pierces my points
Makes a mockery of me.

Yet I can't let it go
It keeps slipping out
"I'm sorry"

Every thought I have
Is a regret
A sin

Every action I take
Is a mistake
A joke

How can I ever be me
When all I can say is
"I'm sorry"

"For what"
They say
"For existing"

I'm sorry.

I am not who
I am what

And I resent that

I am not yours
I am theirs

I wish you'd recognize that

And I cannot be held anymore
In such a pedestal

The display is cracking
The flaws are through.

I'm trying really hard
To put the cap back on the pills
To set the bottle down
To throw the razors in the trash.

I'm trying really hard
To look past the present
To block my memories
To move forward.

He looks at me, the corners of his mouth curling upwards. His eyes aimed at my lips.

****.

He takes a few cautious steps, arms out, like Jesus ******* Christ.

Save me.

He's close, so close. He dives as I swerve and tangle into him.

Oh.

We part, his face twists as he looks at me

"Why won't you let me be with you?" He whispers.

"Because I can't"

Seconds, minutes, hours, days
Time swirling in and out of my peripheral vision
Taunting me in my bed
The heaviness just feels so full
And the light is fleeting
Over grown thoughts pressed into my skull
I don't know how to grow anymore.

And we step into our reality
The way mothers dive into age
With caution, regret, and resistance.

I wrote a song about you dear,
I filled it with your Novocain
To ease my pain.
And fill the gaps
You had left

And the words,
As haunting as your own
Scattered out on pages torn
Neatly from my collection
Of us.

I sing it to myself
In the quiet of the night
A lantern for a light
I whisper the words
Alone.

We are moths and love is our flame.

I can never tell if I'm hiding
Or just simply watching
Because it never seems to be either.
I just exist
I do not glimmer.

I want to scrub my skin until it's raw
I want to clean until the floors shine
I want to put on a face

I want to lie in bed forever
I want to smoke until I cough up black
I want to drink until I can't feel

I want to make them smile
I want to tell a joke
I want to be funny

I want to hide
I want to lock my room
I want to run away

I want to succeed
I want to never worry again
I want to be happy

It's 12 pm, your hollow voice calls
A resounding echo in my head
Of muddled clouds
On a perfect day

Work work work
Money money money
Work work work

Work work work
Die slowly
Die slowly
Die slowly
Money money money
Work work work

I know all the little things
Like how
You take your drinks without ice
And how
You'd rather freeze in a leather jacket
Then out on a real coat.

I know what it means
When your face starts to twist
And I know what you're thinking
When you insist
On opening the door for a lady.

I know the way your hair dries
When it's fresh out of the shower
And straight into bed:
Almost like it's going to fly away.

I know how your eyes plead
When you're holding back
And I know how your hands curl
When something hurts

But the thing I wish I never knew,
Was your face of disgust
And the way you can quit a person
Like me.
I wish I never knew the little things.