I showed up at your doorstep
all kinds of confused,
clouded by the way we let things fall.
It was my fault,
my mess that I threw at your face.
Like bullets,
I said everything that tore us apart.
I trashed not only you and I,
I trashed myself.
Tore apart everything about me.
Shattered and dropped what we had to the floor like glass.
And now these damn thoughts won’t let me get over them.
So here I’m am,
standing in the rain six feet apart,
hoping you’ll open the door.
Because as much as the confusion is begging me walk away,
the apologies in my heart won’t let me go.
I’m sorry...
If it’s the last thing I ever say,
or the last thing you hear of me,
I’m sorry.