My memories have made my mistakes.
It was not me.
I swear.
It wasn't me that hurt you, but some warped self, torn down by grief and rage.
It was not on purpose, old love.
You know that I never meant apologies,
But you know that I didn't mean the harm either.
My memories have made my mistakes.
I beg of you to believe me.
You knew I cared, somewhere, often hidden away from your imploring gaze.
I never dared to care out loud and frankly, I'm sorry.
But you won't believe me.
You never, ever did.
You took the risk with me, a few times,
While I was too wary of your caring gestures, uncertain of your motives.
My memories captured my mind.
They captured me.

"We're slowly letting go, like it's better left alone."