Words have always been inaccurate
Painting the sky black, when I really mean
"A dark abyss that swallows wishes and spits out chance"
"An empty canvas that makes your soul run cold"

And I have never before known this so truly as when
I found myself begging that

I am so, so sorry

For what, you ask?
But there are no words to tell you
How the grief cuts through my skin, deep to my bones
How the guilt, the resentment
Builds into my very skin

I am so, so sorry that I want to **** myself
And I can't find a way to change
I am sorry
The words don't mean enough