"apologized" poems
There once was a young man named Feste, and he was not a very good young man.
He was a thief, and a sneaky one at that. He would go to all of the stores in the market and steal anything that he pleased.
He loved to steal from the baker and the butcher especially.
He would go to his hiding place in the forest after his deviousness and eat away his stolen treasures, brooding on what a “clever little boy” he was.
The baker and the butcher knew though. They noticed him coming in most days and leaving in quite a hurry. They could not actually catch him in the act, but they knew beyond a doubt what he was doing. They were having drinks together one night though when they devised a clever scheme to stop him from stealing ever again. The butcher carved up a juicy ham, and the baker baked up a delicious pie, but they added a little something extra to it…
The butcher made sure to quite a bit of alcohol into the ham, and the baker did the same with his pie. They both set their two traps in the store, right when the spoiled thief Feste came strolling into the market with his eyes gleaming.
The baker watched him walk into his shop,the pie disappeared.
The butcher watched him walk into his shop, the ham disappeared.
They both smiled and went about their work.
Feste rushed to his hiding place and devoured his stolen goodies so fast that he didn’t even realize how peculiar it seemed to taste...
Not long after, he started to feel strange. Numb and stupid. He ran towards the village, acting a buffoon. The villagers stared and laughed at Feste acting so odd. His mother found him though and brought down the fury.
“Feste! Why are you acting like a **** fool?" She demanded.
He threw out a few words in a drunken stupor and swayed in place.
"Wait.. have you been drinking!?” She screamed.
“Noe maum! Allll Ie had todae is pie and haam!” He stammered in a drunken sway.
“And where exactly did you get those!?” She inquired.
Feste had a look of terror on his face and grew silent.
He was found out to be the no good thief and was punished severely, because his mother thought he stole the alcohol as well as the pie and ham, and he couldn’t prove otherwise.
Feste never stole again and he even apologized to the butcher and baker, though they still do have a laugh now and then…
The End
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 7:03 PM UTC
You messaged me today
I listened to what you had to say
My heart didn't hurt
You didn't try to flirt
You apologized to me
And said you'd like to see...
You'd like to see me and catch up
I said okay
I could talk to you today
Is this healing
Because I have no feeling
I have no feelings left for you
Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 11:17 PM UTC
I would have apologized for calling you a little *****
if you stopped acting like one.
After the argument...you still continue to be a little *****
but sure, go ahead and turn the tables as if
it's all my fault because you're right and i' am wrong.
You're a little princess walking around with
your high horse and knight in shining armor.
But one thing you don't understand is that if you
didn't carry the possessions you have
then you'd be lost in this world
without a hand.
Little *****
Because you lie then cry for attention,
you seek the pity out of your petty
which has no significance
through the words you speak.
Jul 24, 2021
Jul 24, 2021 at 1:33 AM UTC
I held her cold, dead hand
I kissed her lifeless face
Memorizing every moment
Knowing that I would never feel the comfort of a mother's love again.
Her selflessness was her demise
She neglected and gave all of herself
She smiled so big
She spoke soothing words
She needlessly apologized
All in her last hours
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 7:25 PM UTC
I forgive you. For the pain you inflicted, for the nights I spent crying over you. For the insecurities you gave me, for the memories you lit on fire. For the mistakes you made that I apologized for. For the friendship you turned into a nightmare. For the nights I spent up wondering what was wrong with me, why I didn't seem to feel worth much to you. For the love you gave, and then the cold shoulder that followed. For the disbelief that laid tight in my chest like a fist. For the smoke that came from your lies, choking me, making me cough up excuses for how you treated me. For the good times times you make me regret. For the talks that meant everything, but mean nothing now. For the truths I'll never be sure were lies or not. For the distrust of love and people you helped instill in me. For saying you'd always be there, and then leaving. For the fact that I still care so much for your well being and pray for your happiness, even though I know you don't care if I'm alive or dead. But most of all I forgive you because you helped me realize that in life sometimes painful things happen and we cannot stay bitter. We must move on to better things, to brighter things, to better people, to brighter people. We must move on to heal, to finally see our worth, to understand that not everyone or everything I've lost was not a loss, just a lesson. To finally know what it feels like to be free of the pain, the bitterness, the resentment, the despair. To finally feel and know peace in such a hurtful situation. I forgive you. Not even for you, but for myself, and other people like me who have felt this before, and aren't yet ready to forgive for an apology they didn't truly feel they got.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
The reason why I apologize
So profusely over the tiniest of things
Is because I always feel as though
I am a bother and annoyance so
I want the person to be aware that
I am truly sorry for the mishap
I may have brought about or the wrong words that may have come out of my mouth
Because in the past I had to apologize again and again
A million sorries I must have said
Just to get the point across
Just to assuage the anger I unintentionally caused
I apologize repeatedly
Because I fear not being taken seriously
When I say sorry I mean it with all of my heart
I apologize even when people say I am not at fault
Because in the past I was always the one guilty
I was always in the wrong
Because when that rage came up and rolled along
It rolled right over me
And so I said sorry
I said sorry to the steamroller for being in its way
And for the broken bones and bruises on my heart that I carried for days
I apologize for apologizing
Because I know I must sound so repetitive and annoying
But I feel as though I can't apologize enough
To make up for and cover up
Whatever sin I may have committed against the one I am apologizing to
Because when you say it’s okay I always fear it’s not true
Because in the past those hiccups and bumps
That weren't even my fault were held against me for months
No matter the amount of times I said sorry and meant it
And the number of times I tried to fix
The mangled mess that wasn't mine but that I was still apologizing for
It was like going to war
But I waged it and gave my best effort
To stitch and sew up the jagged cuts
Of long angry nights and an alcohol filled gut
But failed and then apologized when the seams ripped and tore
Because no matter what I did was going to restore
What used to be
Or repair the damage that happened before me
And so I am sorry for that
That I couldn't make it better because I lacked
Whatever it was you were looking for
But that constant state of feeling guilty is what sent me out the door
And I am free of that weight now
But I still feel the need to say sorry for every little mistake now
Thanks to you I sound like a record stuck on repeat
So I’m sorry that I say sorry too much
But I never know when enough sorries are enough
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 2:08 PM UTC
There are hundreds of stereotypes. In my opinion, the most true one is about cheerleaders. Honestly, every cheerleader I have ever met is a ***** They will tear you down to where you're nothing and you hate yourself. I have had a bad experience with a cheerleader. The reason she got mad at me was because I ACCIDENTALLY stepped on the back of her flip flop. I apologized but she didn't care and gave me a ***** look. Luckily, I have a pretty good friend in that class and he kind of stuck up for me and called her a name. She definitely lived up to that stereotype though. Maybe it's just pointless high school ******** I don't know. I ******* hate her.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
my cousin liked to have breakfast
at an open air café, with his fiancée, on Fridays
the owner knew she loved French breads, having
been schooled at the Sorbonne
the bakery made them at his behest
he would tell his staff to keep one for her
and to bring a bag when served;
she always saved half for later
rush hour was madder than usual
that night, until the bombs blasted
and brought the synovial silence that comes
in the wake of wondering, what
has happened?
the sirens screamed soon enough
and my cousin smelled the smoke
cordite, yes, but burnt baklava,
Maamoul as well
his fiancée came to him that night
watched and waited to hear if anyone they knew
was lost, their hands clasped tight, breaths shallow,
in the languid hush after the city slowed
to its mournful rest
the sun rose, the skies clear, crisp, to their surprise,
and they went to the café, where the owner apologized
for the wicked, wicked world, and for not having baguettes
after the bakery died
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
A thousand nights ago, a little girl lay writhing in pain
As drops of saltwater soaked the crimson-stained sheets
Cries for help were silenced by the same ravishing hands that gripped her,as the man consumed her whole
Her light was fading out,her hands stretched out towards a silhouette
She was pleading,
She was praying
That the figure take a step forward,vanish the demon-man with her supposed light
But the woman in the shadows did nothing
She stood there cold as before
She did not flinch nor expressed anything in her distant eyes
She did not even claim the little girl after
She left her underneath the darkness as the little girl died a million deaths
It has been a long three years now and the little girl has grown
And she feels all wrong
Like she is too much
Like she is never enough
Because they took everything that she was
You have cursed her with the belief that she can only attain love and enlightenment through another
You have infected her with hate, now she craves the feel of the cold blade on her skin
Her lips have grown fond of the taste of the poison
And she constantly needs pain to numb the ache of emptiness
This is not like those other ******* apologies because she is tired of apologizing for existing
When you never apologized for the things that you allowed to happen
Nor is this her playing the victim card and blaming you
This exists to tell you that
She is sinking
The void is gaping
She is losing
And she is sorry for not being able to **** it up"
Because when little girls bleed,they cry
And what they need is a mother's caress to help heal the wounds
Because when little girls get victimized,they feel pain
And what they need is a mother to protect them and dry their tears
But you don't know that and she is sorry
She is sorry that you never lived up to your title
She is so ******* sorry
Mom
–W.
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 10:34 AM UTC
I'm always hungry even though I just ate a while ago
If I go without food for 2 hours my brain works kinda slow
I eat all the time, even when I'm driving
I wonder how it'll be to eat when I'm sky diving
But there's a particular food that I always crave
And if I don't get it, I tend to misbehave
It's amazing and delicious, my favorite cake
I'd go to any lengths for it, no matter what the stake
I'd eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
I'd marry a pâtissier even if he was a sinner
When it comes to cake I show an utmost devotion
My bucket list includes having cake by the ocean
But something happened this summer, which makes me tremble in fear
And now when someone says "Cake" I tend not to go near
I was in Spain, and I was looking for some cake
I was whining and crying; my friend ignorantly sipped her milkshake
So I walked on ahead and finally found a baker
I paused my music; I was listening to Chet Faker
I walked over to him and shouted "I WANT CAKE"
He looked at his buddies and said, "This is the one we take"
The baker and Co. suddenly picked me up; I was too scared to shout
I just wanted my cake and I had no idea what this was about
I tried to escape but it proved to be rather hard
My friend had no idea I was missing; she was looking for an SD card
I didn't wanna think about what might happen, I just wanted to go home
The men had brought me to an outhouse that had a ceiling shaped like a dome
Then they placed me down gently, and were almost too polite
I turned around once I could finally stand and couldn't believe the sight
A crowd was waiting at the back, just waiting to yell "Surprise!"
A man shouted: "You fools! You brought the wrong girl, she isn't even the same size"
They apologized profusely, but honestly I couldn't care less
I just wanted to have my cake and get away from this mess
I walked back past the bakers shop and heard something that gave me déjà vu
"I want cake" said a tall girl; she smiled at me, she didn't have a clue
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
I think when I first saw you,
I swallowed you like my anti depressant pills,
and you settled into my stomach.
When I first saw you,
A thousand seconds in time wrapped themselves in silk,
And became cocoons of memories.
Turning into butterflies,
they fly around in my chest.
When I see your smile,
when I hear your laugh,
when I remember the stars in your eyes.
When I first saw you,
I wanted to breathe in all of the air of the earth.
Because you...
You took my breath away.
When I first saw you,
I wanted to live.
For the first time in my life..
I wanted to live.
But minutes turned to seconds on our pocket watches,
and you sat on the hillside of my insides with a gun.
You sat there and shot down all my butterflies.
And now..
I don't want to live.
And I don't want to love.
I want to die.
You took love from me.
You stamped at it with your feet like cigarette ashes but I'm still burning.
You grabbed me by my throat and whispered,
"I love you."
And as you left me there dying,
with my last breath I apologized for getting blood on your coat.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
Long night drives with a can of golden liquid bitter bluntness are two ultimates that ease the shaky hands and ghosted thoughts
You left me heaving through punctured lungs and broke every rib along the way and I picked up my scattered bones and apologized for the mess
How many more cups of tea until I become harbour?
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
To one little boy, the world was a playground.
Everything had its own degree of fun.
And anything was a toy.
Including people.
As the little boy grew up, he played with lots of people
Using his smile and his words.
To him, they were toys.
Easy to use, easy to throw away.
Until he met a girl.
The girl didn’t want to be a toy.
She wouldn’t be a toy.
She was defiant.
She was special.
She stood out.
To a boy who thought the world was a playground,
And wanted to keep it that way,
The girl was in the way.
So he kept her close,
Not realizing he was becoming quite attached.
But after seeing her smile at another,
He became angry.
But when he tried to throw her away
She escaped.
For years, the boy never saw her again.
The boy grew into a man.
And, though he still saw the world as a playground,
He never forgot her.
Sure, he tried.
But she always came back.
Making little comments in his head.
Sometimes, he could see her face.
And he would reach out.
But she would turn away.
The man was filled with regret.
He would do anything
Just to see her again.
So imagine his shock,
And his smile,
When he found her again.
He apologized.
And begged, for the first time in his life, to start over.
But this time,
She wouldn’t be his toy.
He swore to her he wouldn’t play with her.
Instead,
He would make her his equal.
He would make her his only.
He would make her his wife.
To a boy who thought the world was a playground,
She was his friend.
She was the one.
She was his
Love.
The world was just a playground...until he found her.
May 11, 2019
May 11, 2019 at 11:37 PM UTC
Don't forgive me because I cried
Don't forgive me "even though" I lied
Don't forgive me because I'm a kid
Don't forgive because you could've done what I did
Allow me to face my consequences
Let me adapt to my circumstances
Don't allow me my relapses
Let me feel guilt in my synapses
Please don't forgive me because I apologized
Please don't forgive unless I realized
The wrongs I did
And the wrongs I said
The crimes I hid
And the crimes I fed
Please don't forgive me
Because I seem to feel guilty
Please don't forgive me
Because my eyes went all "melty"
Please don't forgive me
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 10:28 AM UTC
I bent down to her ear and said
Thank you for all you’ve done
Not just for
NY
But for the World
She looked at me expressionless from her chair
I don’t think that she understood nor cared
Then I handed her a little
Bag
Containing two lipsticks
And two pencils
I think she threw the pencils on the floor and
Wondered aloud
Why was everyone giving her pencils?
She did not notice that of the two that I gave her
one was stamped in gold
With the one word
Hustler
And on the other, two
Strictly
Business
I made no suggestions nor references
I didn’t smirk
I must have appeared a bit sweet
A treacly aberration
It doesn’t matter
I had selected two perfect reds in LA
One a bit more blue
and one
a classic vampish carmine
Blood red can be a challenge even against
pale
pale
Skin.
Standing in the lift
Fully attuned
she caught me
not merely looking into her eyes
But seeing what I saw
A death’s head?
I hate when I’m caught doing that
Under the fluorescent light
She was dog rough
Pasty with sad sunken eyes
I was thrown, but by what exactly
Her magpie distress?
Her etheric calamity?
Her puffy, aging face?
We sat and spoke for a while later that night
She did not recognize me at all and apologized
maybe it was the next day
that the three of us had lunch
Everyone in good spirits
The mandrake’s screams
Forgotten with smiles and a wink
Memory bamboozled and
Make-up duly applied
She took out the lipstick
And redrew the lines
She liked the shining black case
with the little black ribbon for a pull
She told our companion sitting on a stoop
smoking cigarettes
I like your friend and
I wondered does she realize
that we already know one another?
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 3:52 PM UTC
Thirty Hours
Who are these men,
Do they have daughters,
Mothers, sisters, granddaughters?
Do they call tenderly their loving
Wives
Their ******
Behind closed doors?
Thirty hours
In the country
I live, love and worry and wonder about...
This is Justice blinded,
But worse,
Publicly, proclaiming,
I am
Deaf and Dumb,
And lost in Her way.
Thirty hours.
I too, have a question.
Have you no shame?
---------------------------
WASHINGTON — For roughly 30 hours over several days, defense lawyers for three former United States Naval Academy football players grilled a female midshipman about her ****** habits. In a public hearing, they asked the woman, who has accused the three athletes of ****** her, whether she wore a bra, how wide she opened her mouth during oral *** and whether she had apologized to another midshipman with whom she had *********** “for being a **
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/21/us/intrusive-grilling-in-rape-case-raises-alarm-on-military-hearings.html?emc=eta1&_r=0
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 9:57 AM UTC
To whom this may concern,
I forgive you.
Even if you haven’t apologized just yet;
maybe you never will.
But I have held this hurt in my chest for far too long
and I don’t want this rotting away my naive heart.
I’m writing this with cathartic desperation and a patience
that only comes from being angry for so long.
I want you to notice the first sentence I wrote earlier.
“I forgive you.” Note that I did not say “it’s okay,” or “it’s all right."
There’s a distinction between what I did say and what I could have.
I said that I forgive you. When I say that,
I acknowledge that you have wronged.
You have hurt me and we both ought to recognize that.
If I’d said “it’s okay,” I would be subtly telling you that
“whatever you did, it’s okay, it’s all right.”
I didn’t say it’s okay because it’s not.
Whether or not you come to terms with it
is not my business anymore.
I hope you find yourself within these words
and make peace with yourself, and I hope
you don’t make the same mistake with another individual.
Without Wax,
Someone Whose Scabs
Have Only Recently Become Scars
*P.S. I may have forgiven you
but that does not mean that I trust you just yet.*
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 2:55 PM UTC
On Christmas Eve I was talking to my brother
It was 2:30 in the morning
We had both been drinking.
I read him one of my poems.
That one about surviving myself.
It sparked a conversation.
The tough kind.
About suicide.
I told him I truly believed most people
Dont WANT to die
They just want the pain to stop
I told him it was a cry for help.
He told me my first attempt was not.
He said with tears rolling down his cheeks
"You were done that night."
With tears now streaming down my cheeks I replied
"I can't talk about this. Not tonight."
"I know." He cried
"Did you ever get help after that night? After seeing me like that? Did you talk to someone?"
"I couldnt talk about it. It was too hard."
At this point we're both bawling.
I wrapped my arms around him.
I apologized.
See that's the thing about attempting suicide and surviving.
If you're lucky enough
To survive
You have to witness the pain everyone around you feels.
Because of you.
I never use to think it was selfish.
Not until Christmas Eve.
I broke my brother.
6 years ago.
And he's still haunted.
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 7:19 PM UTC
i fell off a tower and it hurts and it made me bleed
he helped me up and apologized for letting me fall
and even for that, i fell again
this time from the highest cliff
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 9:05 AM UTC
Out on the road in the middle of the night,
I made my way with no one in sight.
Hugging all the tight corners and vrooming on the straights,
Burning tyre rubber at alarming rates.
Little did I know at that hour along the next turn,
There'd be another person.
With the wind in her hair and one of the most lovely face,
She rode her little pink vespa with amazing grace.
I happened to have crossed paths with her in a traffic rule breaking fashion,
A move I made with deadly precision.
Instantly she uttered that lovely swear word with a sweet loud tone,
******* she said, raising her middle finger alone.
Wrong I was and would've apologized if I could stop,
But in a hurry I was and a high speed it all to top.
Late that night, those stream of events ran through my head,
I pondered on it as I lay in bed.
Swear words! Instantly blurted in the spur of the moment,
Yet originating from the heart's deepest cavity and vent.
Pure to the core,
No hidden meaning they store.
Swear words may have been considered in appropriate and shunned in the world,
Yet they convey what a person feels most appropriately when they are hurled.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
My problem is that I don't follow my intuition, even though it always comes to fruition.
It took me some time to really you down. You had my head spinning, round and round.
Ignoring the clues and the giant red flags. I still blame myself for everything you did that was bad.
I trusted you with secrets, bit by bit. Was it all just too much for you? So, you had to split?
Why should I feel guilty for being ignored? I'm the only one wondering, should I have done more.
But that's the whole point of your fun and games. You emotionally strung me along like I was shackled in chains.
How many times have I apologized, for you hurting me because you're emotionally desensitized?
Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 9:49 AM UTC
There was once a sheep and a dragon. The dragon loved the sheep very much, more than she loved herself, but the dragon could never express her love because she was afraid she might hurt the sheep. You see, sheep and dragons don't belong together. If the dragon were to breathe fire on the sheep's wool by accident the sheep would die. If the dragon accidentally stepped on her sheep, she would never see his handsome smiling face again, and what good would that be? So the dragon cried and cried.
Then there was the sheep. Sheep loved dragon too, but none of his sheep friends thought that he would be cool if he married a dragon. They would make fun of him, call him names and his parents would shun him. The sheep knew that the dragon could hurt him but he wasn't worried, he would wrap himself in something that wasn't flammable and he would be sure never to walk underneath the beautiful dragon. The problem was, the sheep couldn't figure out if he loved his family or Dragon more. So he went to seek help from the wise Turtle.
Turtle lived very far from sheep, but sheep thought that the walk was worth it to find out what he should do. When he arrived at Turtle's house, he was invited in for tea and Oreos. After the small snack, Sheep got right to business and he told Turtle his predicament. Turtle laughed and shook his tiny, Turtle head. "My child," Turtle said "If you really loved Dragon, everyone else's thoughts wouldn't be important. Prove to her that she matters." Sheep shook his head. Turtle hadn't solved his problem at all! "You are NO help you crazy old turtle," yelled Sheep. And he stormed out.
A day or so later Dragon went to see wise old Turtle too. She told Turtle about how she felt about sheep. Again, the wise (and now crazy) Turtle laughed. He thought that young kids didn't understand true love. "Let go of your insecurities Dragon. Sheep loves you and he accepts everything about you, he loves the fire that you breathe, even though it can burn him sometimes and he loves your big feet even though they can stomp him sometimes." The Dragon went home thinking about what Turtle had told her.
A week later Sheep and Dragon went together to see Turtle. Sheep apologized for being so rude before and said that he thought about what Turtle said and realized that he was right. Sheep loved Dragon and that was all that mattered. Dragon blushed red, like the fire she breathed. Turtle turned toward Dragon and asked her what she had learned. Dragon said she learned that even though she may be insecure about some things, she shouldn't let that get in the way of being happy with someone that she loves. Turtle laughed for that last time in this story and said, "Love is a funny thing, sometimes we don't always see what is there" with that being said, Dragon and Sheep ran away to live happily ever after.
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
You've said and I'd have to agree
I'm
selfish,
*Because
I refuse to let you do anything to me,*
Selfish ......
*Why because
I refuse to spread wide & let you
**** me then leave?
You've expressed to others
how*
Selfish
*I can be,
because
I wont give in to your deceit,
I refuse
to allow you any sympathy
when it comes to
your fuckery
your an
infectiousness diseases...*
Selfish
*cause I wont be
subdued with all
the lies and ways
you mistreat me,
all the game playing,
trying to scheme
fake me out,
while you try to
make me lay out
my cards,
ya stupid cheat,
Selfish
because I've told you*
I Wasn't Ready
*I'm calling your bluff,
Your not so tough,
Ya sort of funny papi
Your always trying to knock me,
wishing to cause havoc and bring me down again.*
Selfish
*huh
really?
I'm so*
Selfish
*because I'll put my children
all of them before you,
I've placed my walls back up
wont allow you to climb em
I've changed my mind
more than once it's cause
of something you've done...*
*You've got me rethinking
being up on this pedal-stool
&
I'd rather you stop shaking it
so
I can get down
but you'd rather see me fall.
It's*
Selfish
*of me- right
cause
I'd rather not have to fight,
I don't like being put down,
Specially ya
small jabs
about my mental
the many excuses
you've come to make
time and time again
You've dismissed
my past and all
the bad that's trapped me,
You make fun of me
for having PTSD
& D.I.D.
You've said and I'd have to agree
I'm*
Selfish
*cause I don't want to do this,
I don't need another man's
to abuse,
or for you to
use and beat me
I'd rather be*
selfish
*then to take care of another drunk
or man with any type of addiction,
even if you're addictions me.
I'll be*
selfish
*While
I guard all that's dear to me
You've already
deliberately
tried to cause me so much pain
dressed it up and called it love
but I wasn't fool to your game.*
Selfish
*huh?
Is it because,
I didn't let you in
well not as much
as you'd like me to,
Naw papi
it's because
You
can't just pop into my life
then try to take it over.*
**SORRY MOTHER ******
*You can't mistreatment
and abuse me
than bring me flowers
cards or candy,
You can't rock my body
then dismissively
treat me like
I'm worthless....
But it's me
whose so *******
Selfish.
*I've said it long ago
Oh how he thinks
I'm*
"His Type"
*Well that's not true
because
baby you've made it
so **** clear
that
I'm nothing.
Besides
a *****
a **** & a ****
A *****
even though
You've apologized
each and every time
those
words left your lips,
not right away
but you've done it
&
I refuse to forgive you
over and over
each time you've
repeated ya crimes...*
*No way could
I allow you back
because
you showed you'd
do it
again and again,
and if
BIG ******* IF,
if I allowed it
which I wont-
not anymore and never again
its because
you've said it
right
and
if you cant
remember
well baby
I'll help you
out
its
because
I'm*
SELFISH!
*Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®
K.A.C.L.N ©
All right reserved ®
Copyright 1977 - Present*
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
I may have made an innocent mistake but,
You were the one that started this sick *** war
I have not engaged it, I will not
I believe in love, not war
I apologized to the one that matter
Will I get apologies for the hurt I suffured?
No!
Tiss the first rule of war….I guess,
Cover your own ass.....to bad
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
It was raining the Saturday I hired the carpenter, but I think it was acid rain from all the poison you let escape into your body.
He was a drunkard, and he apologized through sips of alcohol. It was the color of your blood when I found you in fits and I begged him to wash them out of the carpet, but through every sip he said your name just like the walls do.
I begged the maid to clean up the razors but she never did.
The maid came in two hours late and she didn't seem to mind my frustration. Much like you never seemed to mind when you said the right things all too late.
She swept secrets under the rugs and listened to the creak in the floorboard whenever any weight was put on this old wooden floor that reminded me so much of your weak shoulders when I needed a place to hold me.
The builder was far too early, and the maid never cleaned up in time. The builder tried desperately to rebuild the walls, but they shook at the weight of another's skin on mine, and the builder whispered "I think you need him back." I dismissed him, and the force of my door slamming (much like the force when you left that night with everything but me) was enough to destroy every wall.
Gardeners came in flustered at the work ahead of them. There were scars on my heart running up the sides like vines and it was far too thick to be cut down.
I envied the fresh dug up dirt encasing the weeds that I so badly wished would hold my body too. You see I tried to burry myself in your mind but you kept pushing me out and now the dirt is the only thing that promises certainty.
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 1:50 PM UTC