I’m sorry for the ways you’ve seen me:
Mascara running down my face,
Nails scratching my stomach,
And raging mad with red-hot face.

I wish I could take back
The words I’ve said,
But I know I’ll say them again
For only us to hear.

I’m sorry for the thoughts
That I know you’ve heard—
Or at least recognized
Through the looks you’ve come to know.

I’m sorry that you know me
Better than any actual person.
It isn’t your fault,
And I’m so sorry.

~Audra