My soul aches for a time when you will apologize.
You are a poem I have written over and over.
I want to stop writing about ghosts and shadows.

I want to write about the sun,
I want to write something you will sob over.
I want you to ache as much as I have.
I want you to write me down as something beautiful,
as your biggest regret.

I want to take it,
I want to mass produce it,
I want to hang it on the fridge,
I want to tattoo it on my face,
I want to make you realize that narcissists are nothing but slugs,
and you, were the king.