I will not apologise.
I will not apologise for never fully giving you my heart.
I will not apologise for hurting when you were not.
I will not apologise for not hurting when you were.
Because I am not sorry.
I have apologised for every single thing
for as long as I could remember -
head down, “sorry” this, “sorry” that -
and you know what? I am done.
You were in the roots of my hair,
in every cell of this god ****** body.
And the heaving craters within my veins,
made by insecurities coming crashing down,
are evidence of a battle hard won.
Too long have I fought the reflection of a mirror,
too many times the jagged pieces won.
Now I am marching back to my native land
to be reunited with the home I’ve made in my soul.
I will not apologise for leaving your war.
I will not apologise for not being you.
I will not apologise for being me.
I will not apologise for anything.
i. I've fallen for the way you write certain letters in two separate strokes, almost as if telling them that every single part of them is unique and deserves more.
ii. The way our nails are shaped the same, as if our bodies were made to match, if only barely.
iii. When you grind your teeth while arguing with me. As though your mere teeth could crush everything you ever hated about me.
iv. Or as if you could trample all of the words you didn't want to hear me say.
v. There are thousands of buildings I'd jump off to remind myself of how it felt to fall for you.
vi. I liked the adrenaline of falling but I'm done falling for you.
There's a lot of things I don't believe in,
but you're not one of them.
I’m made of bones and blood,
and those bones,
unbroken and holding me up,
is proof of my survival.
And though there is emptiness and fear hiding inside,
put together with the will to keep going,
I know I am stronger than ever.
And there is salt in my blood
from the days where tears infiltrated
into the valleys I built to hide in.
But the oxygen inside each blood cell
is proof that I’m still breathing.
I’m alive. I’m alive!
And I’m trying my best not to forget that.
Not that it mattered.
His skin was clean.
There were no scars,
there were no daily reminders
of the sins he had committed.
And you tried to think
for so impossibly long and hard
when was the last time
yours had been clean too.
Because no matter how long
you had beaten back temptation
you always saw something
other than clear skin.
When we kissed, I fell
into the grave you dug.
I loved you so dearly,
I forgot to love me.
You said, "goodbye, for now."
I said, "stay, for awhile."
3x 10 word poem