Voices shaping repetitive poetry
Prosper in the depths of my spirit.

Those who have came and gone
Exist within words and phrases
That have blossomed
In rejection,
And planted me in
Insecurity.

Maybe if I listen long enough,
The apologies of those that
Shower me
With disinterest
Will counter the shadow of
Apathy over my head.

Maybe then,
Will my heart get to see the sun.

Let it melt the words
That fall from excuses
And burn every empty adjective
Lingering around places
I wasn't welcome.

Because apologies have only
Cleared everyone else's conscience,
While silencing mine.