Forgive me, for my years.
Perhaps I am just nine short of knowing the rhythm to which your heart beats and having the ability to match it.

Forgive me, for my legs.
I did not have, and still have yet to find, the strength I need to run to you.

Forgive me, for my words.
They were deceitful. I believed they could keep you close to me. But in reality, you have always been hundreds of miles away.

Forgive me, for my heart.
The poor thing loves too quickly. It did not see the big picture. For months, it's gaze was fixed solely upon your scorching glow, which was mistaken for a beacon of hope.