Everyday after we stopped talking,
I've been running.
Running fast and hard,  away from my guilt.
Some days it'll catch up on me,
filling me up from the pit of my stomach,
gnawing its way up.
And some days I'd let it.
After all, it is what I deserve.
I'm sorry I popped up in your life,
pulled you in day by day,
then tell you I couldn't go on further.
I was desperate and lonely and curious
but realised I wasn't ready.
Perhaps I never got over my
fear of commitment.
I foolishly thought I did.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
You didn't deserve any of it.
Thank you for your kindness, though.

-m.b