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My life is filled with endless apologies

Sincere and heartfelt promises that are shallow and empty


It's not a conscious thought
The words aren't spoken with known deceit or intentional mal-intent
But somewhere in my brain, buried in my subconscious, I know...
A self-sabotaging automated programming constantly running
And regardless of my cognitive actions or conscious thoughts, desires and intentions
My automated programming will find a way to inevitably run its code, follow its routines and execute its prime directive

And that's not a cop out
They're still my actions
Conscious or subconscious
Actions resulting from subconscious "thought" are those I'm too ignorant to see or too weak to change in that moment

I don't know what's worse
The subconscious lies and heaps of horse fertilizer, day in and day out, I shove down the throats of those who cross my path
Or the incessant feed of regurgitated words, phrases, thoughts, ideas and worst of all.... hopes.... that is being forced through my digestive track only to be excreted by my body and re-absorbed by my central nervous system

Hope

The worst trick of all

And it always works. Without fail
Why?
Because it psychologically and emotionally preys on everything I want to be
The Hope that THIS TIME I'll get it right
THIS TIME I won't FAIL
All those things inside of me
All of my
......
Potential
.......
This time it won't be wasted
This time I'll come through. You can count on me!
I promise!
This time I'll be on time
This time I won't be late!
This time I'll meet expectations
This time I'll EXCEED expectations!
This time I won't let people down
This time I won't....
                                 .....
                                    ..... let
                                               ME

                                                      .­....down

Hope

The saddest and ultimate cruelty of lies
Created by the Devil to prey on the weak and gullible
If Hell is living your worst day over and over again for eternity;
Then repeating the same detrimental behaviors over and over again for life, sustained in this perpetual motion by something so simple and harmless looking as "Hope" must fall at the Devil's hands

A wolf in sheep's clothing sprinkled in fairy dust
The worst of thoughts and beliefs are kept alive by Hope
Hope is a disease; a psychological virus
A damaged idea spreading from person to person, hijacking their system, and infecting their thoughts
For Hope is not a singular idea, isolated in seclusion, yet ultimately wrapped up and packaged out with other ideas
No, Hope is the vehicle that all thoughts that follow must ride in and by which be delivered
It is the Uber for ideas that follow
And like an unscrupulous and unpitying Uber driver,
Hope takes your brain to a secluded spot against its will and does as it so pleases
But unlike survivors of such horrific events
I, like a wide eyed doe in the headlights
I continuously expose myself to the exact same scenarios
over
and
over again

But not to worry

Eventually,
Hope will lose its magic
And the void created will be filled

By,

Regret,
Resentment,
Animosity,
Self-doubt,
Self-loathing,

And worst of all,

Denial

Denial is Hope's evil twin

The not so secret malicious trickster who, even though wears his emotions somewhat more clearly, is still capable of a lifetime of successful pranks

But unlike Hope, Denial doesn't always reveal his trick if the tricked has yet to become aware of the ruse
Instead, Denial will let them build
Stack upon stack
A colossal suspension bridge built and supported on Denial
And when I, with blind faith, cross that bridge
Putting everything and anything on the line, without question
That's when Denial delivers its reckoning
And in one all encompassing swoop it swallows me whole and any resemblance of "life" with it

Hope and Denial
My Atlantic and Pacific Oceans
and Me, a tiny island
Flanked on either side by the endless majesty of each
And like this planet,
I too,
Am a sphere spinning
A tiny island against the enormities of the the deep blue
A shipwrecked survivor
Floating on the driftwood of my subconscious
Left to the will of my environment
A helpless passenger on this ship of life
Constantly spinning between Hope and Denial
Some days calm and serene
Others, tormented by storms
Monster waves,
Flashes of lightning,
Ear shattering crackling explosions of thunder
And howling winds so fierce they must be the breath of God

And regardless of what scenario lays before me,
I'm left repeatedly with the same "choice" and same action

Enveloped with fear,
Hanging on for dear life,
Like a helpless and horrified child.....

On the verge of soiling my pants
Written: May 28, 2018

All rights reserved.
JK Cabresos Aug 2012
Unraveling views emanated from a glaring Light,
Silhouetted rainbows were of colors of black and white;
Trying to dis-remember the past on living in a lonely gray,
And my knees convey all of my solemn apologies.

Take me with you, my Lord, and I shall be healed;
Your every word kisses the pain from afar — I kneel.
You will be a fortress, and I will be safe on your massive walls,
And my knees convey all of my solemn apologies.

In Your undying Arms, I found my refuge and strength,
I will behold — though this ransomed world will be shaken;
I will stay — though mountains will be carried into the sea,
And my knees convey all of my solemn apologies.

Jesus, You ceased the waging war between myself,
I am a sinner; confusions parched the rivers of my beliefs,
Yet I came to you, kneeling, with broken vows and promises,
And my knees convey all of my solemn apologies.

Forgive me my Savior.
You may also visit my blog: http://penned-words.blogspot.com/
© 2012
Payton Summer Jul 2014
My apologies leave a dry throat with a sting
Another and another fall from a limp jaw
Another from pale lips
And again from bleeding wrists
My apologies are written in blood
And spilling from one last kiss
Soaking into your skin
Sinking through the surface
And my apologies burst from my skull  as the bullet shatters my bone
And regret splatters across the wall
Written in blood is nothing but
**"I'm sorry"
Amanda Kay Burke Mar 2018
I wish I wasn't still in love
With the person I believed you were
I wish I remembered our time
Clearly instead of merged into a blur

I wish I could happen upon
A picture of us without feeling sick
I wish I was able to outrun
My pain, I tried, but it's too quick

I wish I was capable of
Saying your name without tears leaking out
I wish I had some control over
The honest chaotic words I spout

I wish I was better at apologies
I am sorry for causing you pain
I wish I was worse at forgiveness
My trust is too easy to regain

I wish I didn't miss your touch
And the way you hugged me
I wish I was able to talk
About us without saying "we"

I wish I was able to forget
How your face looks when your heart is sore
I wish I could listen to our song
And not crumble to bits on the floor

I wish I would have deleted your texts
So I would not reread them all day
I wish I had a magic wand
To turn our skies blue instead of grey

I wish I didn't fake a smile
In every picture I post
I wish I was brave enough
To exorcise your stubborn ghost

I wish I could escape the ropes
Of silence wrapped around my heart
I wish I wouldn't of bared my
Whole soul when you shared only a part

I wish I didn't see your image
In my mind each time I close my eyes
I wish I could forget the feeling
Of your fingertips dancing on my thighs

I wish I dreamed of something else
Besides your smile every night
I wish I could bury my hurt
Deep below the surface; out of sight

I wish I was an important enough
reason for you to change
I wish I could spin you like a
Rubiks Cube until you rearrange

I wish I had an easier time
Dragging this body out of bed every day
I wish I didn't want to hide
Under covers and waste away

I wish I could make the sun shine
And light up my life once more
I wish I wasn't too delicate
To speak openly like before

I wish I still felt beautiful
The way I did when you stared at me
I wish I would have stopped handing you chances
After number 93

I wish I possessed the strength
To push myself off my knees
I wish I had the perfect plan
To save you from your deserved disease

I wish I lived in the present
Instead I am always stuck in the past
I wish I could slow down time
I'm powerless; it flies by too fast

I wish I could leave you behind
Move on, let go of this sunken ship
I wish I didn't let you drive
Each time we went on a guilt trip

I wish I could predict the future
What our outcome will be
I wish I had the ability
To write the ending to this story

I wish I lived somewhere new
So I wouldn't see your mom around
I wish I could ask how you are
And look anywhere else but the ground

I wish I could put my heart
Back together in one piece
I wish I was strong enough
To force these wants and needs to cease

I wish I hated you for putting
Me through all seven layers of Hell
I wish I didn't miss your kiss
The heaven I once thought I knew so well

I wish I was a heartless corpse
Incapable of love or emotion
I wish I would have my breath taken
Sorrows are waves and I drown in this ocean
The ending doesn't feel right but it was getting long
Spencer Dennison Dec 2014
A gentleman is not brutal,
but he will prove all vendettas futile.
He is not immune to bullet, fist or blade
but any insult raised against him
will be met with a blockade.
He is stoic, but still smiles,
cracking his face open without reserve
for a friend, to calm, to a foe, to unnerve.
A gentleman dresses his best,
whether it Vans and sweater, or tie and vest.
No-one is beneath his attention
he gifts compliments quite often,
but when a man puts a hand on him,
that man goes home in a coffin.

No matter his orientation,
he respects every inclination,
He holds the door
the same way he strikes true,
every time.
He knows his weapon well,
but in blood, he doesn't buy nor sell.
He knows the time to fight
but of violence, he makes no light.
He respects every man,
every woman,
every child...
But,
if his family is ever hurt
and this one renders apologies inert
then they shall receive only
a box and a white shirt.
CJ Tims Nov 2018
I am ashamed
At how broken i am.
I apologize
For the amount of stress
I may cause in the midst of your
Efforts of trying to keep me held together.
I apologize
that i continue to fall apart
Before your glue has time to dry.
I apologize
That every time you pick a piece of me up,
Yet another breaks.
I am trying.
You are fixing me slower than i am breaking,
And i am ashamed.
Thank you.
Thank you for not giving up
On a broken piece of nothing.
Yen  Apr 2017
Pearl of the Orient
Yen Apr 2017
Manila,
Manila,
Your bustling streets vibrate with the rumbling of the jeepneys
and the hollers of the drivers as they say,
“Pasahero diyan, kasya pa, kasya pa!”; (Any passenger there, some seats are still free!)
Your nights twinkle with the Christmas lights
that surround every tree around the Meralco building
when September begins;
Your endless traffic jams keep McDonald’s and KFC alive
twenty-four by seven
where traffic enforcers dodge cars
and vans
trucks and tricycles
and jeepneys and bicycles
while dancing to the rhythm beating in their own ears
with a smile and a salute to all the drivers
from dawn to dusk;

The noise awakens the outskirts of your city
filled with people who never fails to smile
even when the storm pirouettes like a tempestuous ballerina,
where children watch the roads
transform into this ocean of black water
and small wooden boats become the means of transportation;
paddling in between houses
as the adults try to go to work;
where chickens waddling upon roofs
and cats chasing rats
become the best forms of entertainment

but Manila,
your lingering smell of cancer
comes with the dark blue starless sky
telling people to grip their bags until it merges with their bodies.
Manila, say good night
while they hold it tight
protecting it from the dark humid air
where thieves come out to
thumb down unscrutinised objects
from shallow pockets
by the flickering lamps
across the blazing red and emerald green lights


you see less
and less
and less
faces
as the Sun sinks and says good bye.

Stop
and try to tranquilise yourself.

Your city is now lead
by a blood-thirsty leader.
Apologies from gunshots overpower the cries of help from your people.
Manila,
ignore them
and sleep well.
Let the truth decay
while lives burn and vanish.
Prayers cannot save your mutinous ignominy.

Halcyon days are over
but

Manila,
you are still a beautiful city.
Your resilient people
overflows with hospitable hearts.
Their faces plastered with big smiles
as they welcome us for you
and say, “Mabuhay!” (Long live!)
proud and mighty.
Offering their minds on banana leaf plates to everyone who visits,
Giving away their hearts in small loot bags to everyone who leaves,

The Pearl of the Orient Seas
was my hood.

Manila,
despite your lack of snow
and intense weather swings,
You are
and will always be
my home.

— The End —