You are probably sick of apologies,
Because all I do is sound like a broken record saying,
Sorry.
But how much do you really care?
I am sorry for being too much,
Or not enough.
I am sorry for being skeptical,
About things and people.
People like you.
I am sorry for the times where I shouldn’t been.
For the times where you don’t want to see me,
But there I am; existing.
I am sorry for writing you epistles of poetry,
The ones that you’ll never read.
I am sorry for being guilty of being mad,
When all you did was left me with jumbled words,
Stuck in the bottom of my tummy.
Lastly,
I am sorry for my heart.
For myself– giving something special.
Only to have it hurt and scarred.
I am sorry for loving,
Until I burst.
And remaining to be kind,
Because I don’t want them hurt.
I don’t want you hurt.
But I am sorry for giving away something you already had too much of.
I didn’t know.
Because I wasn’t full of love.