you say you’re sorry
but, love, that just doesn’t cut it anymore.
i.
the city lights twinkled in every direction around us
as the wind blew and our hair flew and
I spread my arms to fly as you clung to the rooftop.
you apologized on the way downstairs
and I forgave you because not everyone is brave enough to let go.
ii.
you called me, crying and apologizing, late
the night before christmas eve.
I listened to your voice quiver
and your sighs and your shaky inhalations
and I forgave you because I knew you had lashed out while you were hurt.
iii.
I submerged my head for a moment beneath the chlorinated, sloshing mess
and felt the dull yank of the jets and my shorts billow out.
steam billowed off my shoulders and the surface of the water
as I inhaled and looked skyward.
the stars blurred and danced without my glasses
and I forgave you because I knew how terrifying it could be to have only yourself in such a big world.
iv.
my forgiveness scared you and you left yet again.
my heart aches and my head aches and it’s so very hard to sleep.
I wonder if you think about me and if you’re regretful anew
and if you’re biding your time so that I forget the promise you made
to not play this game again.
I will forgive you in time, love,
because I don’t believe in being unhappy over the past,
but you are not excused and you are not forgiven
and no matter how much I adore your freckles and
the way your face lights up when you laugh and
how you feel so deeply and care so ******* much,
despite the fact that I know you’re terrified
and that you don’t know how to operate properly,
you have to clean up the entirety of your messes
before you can slip back into my life.
I love(d) you. but you’ve been quite the daft boy this time.
enough.
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 6:16 PM UTC
you say you’re sorry
but, love, that just doesn’t cut it anymore.
i.
the city lights twinkled in every direction around us
as the wind blew and our hair flew and
I spread my arms to fly as you clung to the rooftop.
you apologized on the way downstairs
and I forgave you because not everyone is brave enough to let go.
ii.
you called me, crying and apologizing, late
the night before christmas eve.
I listened to your voice quiver
and your sighs and your shaky inhalations
and I forgave you because I knew you had lashed out while you were hurt.
iii.
I submerged my head for a moment beneath the chlorinated, sloshing mess
and felt the dull yank of the jets and my shorts billow out.
steam billowed off my shoulders and the surface of the water
as I inhaled and looked skyward.
the stars blurred and danced without my glasses
and I forgave you because I knew how terrifying it could be to have only yourself in such a big world.
iv.
my forgiveness scared you and you left yet again.
my heart aches and my head aches and it’s so very hard to sleep.
I wonder if you think about me and if you’re regretful anew
and if you’re biding your time so that I forget the promise you made
to not play this game again.
I will forgive you in time, love,
because I don’t believe in being unhappy over the past,
but you are not excused and you are not forgiven
and no matter how much I adore your freckles and
the way your face lights up when you laugh and
how you feel so deeply and care so ******* much,
despite the fact that I know you’re terrified
and that you don’t know how to operate properly,
you have to clean up the entirety of your messes
before you can slip back into my life.
I love(d) you. but you’ve been quite the daft boy this time.
enough.
