Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
in my obliviousness
inadvertent and unintentional
some may say as usual
i disturbed a wasp nest
the heightened bombilation
an anger-pitched droning
unheard somehow
therefore unheeded
until that impolite *****
a warning sting
through t-shirt to torso
followed by a few more
in quick succession
set my legs moving
apologetically away
with hands raised
chastened and contrite
both in supplication
and in order to remove
the offending article
of clothing
the oversensitive wasp
having become trapped within
defensively stinging
as nature directs
to be honest
its overzealous instincts
began to feel
more like spite
than mere survival
LeBobbe Apr 13
I am sorry,
I can't express my words.
My lips doesn't move.
I always feel I should say it in a hurry,
My eyes are getting blurred.
I... I.. haven't improved.

Your rage is justified.
I can only look and listen.
My reasons are invalid.
Our thoughts has been misaligned.
Your compassion was suddenly hidden.
I am in presence where my logic forbid.

We walk through the dark streets home.
I only heard your voice passing through.
My heart aches with each passing phrase.
Together... we.. roam.
Every command I would do.
My bowed down head's been raised.

I said nothing at the gate.
I only stared at your fierce eyes.
I walked backed home quietly.
No words has been said.
A piece of me dies.
I... am.. sorry.
We all have hardships in our relationships. It's just that I have a hard time communicating. I am scared to say the wrong things.
perhaps it is apt
the first pancake
is always
a disappointment
without that light
crisped perfection
we've come to expect
it is undercooked
as the ideal
frying time
is gauged
incorrectly at first
it will be
plated with
accompanying pleas
for forgiveness
and absolution
but as penance
someone has to
suffer this
pariah's offering
with each mouthful
comes thoughts
of apology
of atonement
of promises
it will be better
next time
birdy Jun 2022
They ran,
like they had never escaped
from anything before

I was their prison
and it hurts to know
that I was what
kept them up at night

Destiny C Jun 2022
I wish apologies were rewinds
that could go back to that place in time.
& make everything alright.

To go back to that kiss,
In your arms,
And feel blanketed in your warmth...

But instead I think back to that point in time,
Where unfortunately there is no rewind.
Forgiveness is in my heart,
But it also remembers to tread lightly.
It makes me think.

Think about you.
Think about me.
Think about the way things used to be.

I wish apologies could take it all back,
but in reality there are no rewinds.
Things continuously move forward.
Even with trepedity.
My Dear Poet Apr 2022
If you help me with this letter
I may not need to send it
Nigdaw Apr 2022
I am sorry for the intermission
in your life that was me
do not adjust your set
normal service will be resumed
When my mom first thought that I was gay,
She and my father sat me down at the kitchen table.

I was fifteen and thought I was in love,
And all they could do was scream at me...

‘You’re a sin; what you feel isn’t natural.’
‘Where did we go wrong?’

And all I had wanted was to love in peace.
But apparently, that was too much to ask from them.

So I stifled myself.

I cut myself off from her and let us wither
Until there was nothing left of us because
I wasn't normal
And I was fifteen
And all I wanted was my mother’s approval
And how could I gain that if I wasn’t normal?

And then I was sixteen and I thought I was in love again
But this time with a seventeen-year-old boy
That knew nothing of love
And everything of sharp edges and even sharper words
But he spoke so pretty to me,
And how could I resist?

But he hurt me worse than anyone else that I’ve known
And he never even cared…

And then I was seventeen.

I was seventeen and my best friend had this mane
Of beautiful hair and I called her lovely and wife
And all the other silly little pet names that high school girls do
But little did she know that her smile
Lit fireworks inside my brain and the swarms of
Butterflies that beat in my chest rivalled that of a drum.

I thought she was beautiful.
I saw the universe in her.

But how could I admit that to myself without admitting it to
My mother, the one person whose validation I crave like
Air and water and life itself?

How could I admit to her that I wasn’t
Her little girl anymore?
That I was a disappointment?

And then I was eighteen.

I was eighteen and numb and not looking for anything when he found me...
I was eighteen and I thought that surely,
This was it, this was the feeling that I was waiting for.

But it wasn’t and I was eighteen and alone again
But this hurt worse than the others and then I was gone after that summer.

Now, I’m almost nineteen.

I’m almost nineteen and I’ve accepted the fact that
I will disappoint my mother;
The one whose opinion that I value the most;
The one that gave birth to me;
The only one that can tear me down until I feel like nothing.

But she’s my mother so how could I let her go
When she was there for my first word and my first steps
And every one of my other firsts.

My first date.

My first dance.

My first breakup.

She was there when I left for college, and she’ll be there when (if)
I get married.

Because regardless of my choices,
She loves me, and she always will.

And even if I can’t bring my partner home,
I will love her all the same.

So mom, if you see this,
I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that I didn’t turn out how you wanted.
I’m sorry that I disappointed you.

But I’m not sorry for being who I am.

I’m not sorry for thinking women are beautiful
And men are handsome
Because all the world needs is a little bit more love,
And who am I to deprive it of that?
An apology to my mother, who may or may not see this...
AE Mar 2022
All I can think about
Are the things we would do
If I had moved the mountains
That buried you
I pieced you back together
With shrapnel from the glass
Stained with the pigment
From under my eyes  
Restless from this rustling wind
Anxious and bitter cold
I feel like the whistle
That rings in your ear
As you lay there
Under the weight
Of broken words  
Trying to forget the sunrise
That looms too close
With your sleep captive
In its marmalade palm
My Dear Poet Feb 2022
Your apology was drowned out
by the noise in my mind

I’d have read your lips
but tears had me blind

I tried to feel your words
but I was numb at every line
Next page