I'm sorry that life drives fast, riding the tail of clock hands and that when you walk up the steps after working those overtime hours, you need a little bit to yourself, you need a movie in the dark. I'm sorry that the rolling credits to you are eternity knocking, I'm sorry that life gets so heavy. like the heals of your shoes, in every tread on the pavement I wish we could go waltzing I wish I could inspire a spring in your step I wish I was growing up strong enough to feel the wind as its blown and plan my day's by the sun I wish I wasn't growing up weighed down by work boots of my own, late nights under books that I never chose to read, tokens of time stolen from my pocket while I watch those lips move and those lips say nothing. I wish I really was a super hero. I wish I could turn back time. I wish those credits rolling didn't remind me I'll never catch up with now. and I'm sorry i don't know how, to lift those little nails from your tires, to make this easier on you. I'm sorry that I leave the room before the credits even come, that my priorities are never quite in order like the cupboard I never cleaned, and the thank you you haven't received, like the months I quit all but breathing and left you to hold us both up. and the time after when I hid in the dust aggressively ashamed of myself and still somehow blaming you for that and for how I hate the credits that roll. and the arrows that toll each ebbing hour, from you and from me, from the could be memories.