i am sorry
for the bruises under your eyes
i'd say i wish they were mine
but we wear the same sleepless wounds
pretending all is fine;
there's blood in your mouth,
your tongue tastes like copper
it's like kissing pennies
but far, far softer.

i am sorry
this is not the life you were promised,
baby eyes wide with wonder
as your mother's words tried for honest;
i wonder if she knew
what the world would bring unto you,
the things your father would do,
the ways his friend would ruin you
all the wasted love
and all the terrible tears
looking at the sky above,
empty bottles counting the years