I will eventually
convince myself

That this means
absolutely nothing

I will eventually
be rid of the stickiness
that is the pain
of anything near me

touching my skin
and making my mind
revolve around strange
things

I sometimes think of sin

Of all things

I think about how wrong,
how it’s bad

Society says no
they all just want us
to go

It was my insecurity
it was my discomfort

It was the pressure from you
and all that wouldn’t fit

Everything that just
didn’t work

And so I threw a fit

I’m sorry.

Right?

Is that what
I should say?

I’m sorry,
I’m sorry

Saying it again
would make everything
okay

But it doesn’t.

The pain of
what used to be

The thought
of what could’ve
been

The memories
of the hurt,
everything
that really
just wouldn’t
work

I’m sorry,
I’m sorry

It is working yet?

Why am I doing this?

It wasn’t me,
I promise

Why am I
apologizing?

In reality,
who’s fault was it?


Why did you
try to convince
me that
everything was okay?

I’m sorry but

I think it’s

time to say that

it wasn’t me,

it was you

so this is

ultimum valae.