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alexya May 22
I sat there, silent tears falling off my not high - not sharp- cheekbones.
I sat there while you continued shoving yourself father down my throat.
            Did you know I was crying? Would you have cared?
I got up, and he looked at me sympathetically. As though he wasn't screaming at me, "You know you want this." "Come on. No one will know. No one has to know. It'll be quick."
            Did you not get the hint when I began lying there lifeless,
            almost, close enough? Did you not think to stop when I said
            no? When I couldn't find myself to look at you while you were
            committing your act? Would you have stopped if you could've
            heard my thoughts?
At least he had the decency to drive me home, this time.
And yet I continue to come back.
Samantha Nguyen Aug 2018
"heavy breathing/hot breath.
hands touching/warm skin.
why did i do this."

i had to stand on the tips of my toes
just so i could reach your lips.
arms encircled me, keeping me safe.
this can't be real.

"we looked into each other's eyes
and her breath still lingers on my skin.
i shiver.
she clung to me tightly, as if she was scared."

i have ruined the best thing that has happened to me.

"she had to tell everyone of this.
this was meant for us only.
why share this moment with the world.
why did i let her do this.
she's already happy, playing me like a game of cards.
one mistake turned into regret."

i'm so sorry.
this secret was something i couldn't bear.
carrying the weight like atlas.
your body was my map that my finger traced,
leading me to a secret location.
i have revealed its existence.

"those eyes that i thought were innocent
have become guilty (i was betrayed).
how could i live with this."

i wanted you.

"she wanted to use me."

i'm sorry.

"she'll say sorry as much as she wants; she'll pay."

'one mistake turned into regret.'

"keep apologizing, that isn't the price i want."

i'd do anything.

"she wouldn't do anything.
she's got other guys.
****.
find someone you actually love."

but you're the one i want.

"i might as well end it here/there's no reason to live."

there are plenty of reasons.

"i don't see her as a reason."

i can still feel your breath on me.
as i cry at the little reminders of you.
when it's night, i wish you were next to me.
but who would want to be with me.
i'm a spoiled, selfish, lying girl.

"i want out."

no, i want out.

"she has ruined me."

just give me a second chance.

"this was supposed to be our moment, not the world's.
what happened wasn't us."

but what if it's us.
what if it's us and only us.

"i know i hurt her, but she also hurt me.
i can't pretend this didn't happen.
pretending would let her off the hook.
she needs to know."

then let's make a promise to us.
let's start over
and not pretend.
Marília Galvão Sep 2015
"The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable."

Invasive?
Doesn't a deep gaze carry
numerous hooks disguised as unpretentious interrogation marks?
They're faster than the blink of the eyelids,
ambitiously break into the one in front,
stealing something
not for sale in the first place.

But, you just wanted to know
...just wanted to know that sparkling little piece of life behind the curtains of the iris
Then you suddenly find yourself apologizing
It was not your intention to set your noxious questions free,
hooks of someone else's life

Vulnerable?
You smell the eyes in front of you,
You see they can effortlessly listen to your thoughts, which have been screaming anyway, from the windows, of your soul.
Even those ignored little parts insist on showing off

You can almost physically feel it,
streams of dense water travelling
from the very core of your cells,
going up your veins,
holding your breath for a second when passing through your throat,
until it finally reaches your pupils' edge,
where they can bluster it out
and it's gone!
You're left with the hope
that the eyes in front of you haven't seen the spectacle.
concept from http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com
Ruth Cardenas Sep 20
End
I'm tired of apologizing
For the days that I feel blue
On clouded days, there's less of me
The rest, darkness consumes

But I waste days apologizing
I'm sorry, nothing new
The quiet speaks of wicked things
And I can't follow through

It screams to me, obscenities
I question, but won't do
A second thought, a third one
And I fear I'll follow through

And slowly, quiet pressures me
Surrounded by the blue
Somehow the choice is simple
When there's nothing left to lose
Lauren Jun 11
By. Lauren

I do not want to be depressed.
Mom I am trying.
I can not keep apologizing.
I took the blade to my own skin it was not a demon from god.
I'm just trying.
Mom will you listen!?
I can not apologize.
Mom I do not believe.
Why must you say that I brought this upon myself?
Mom god did not send me a devil.
You can not drown my depression in a sea of Jesus.
Mom I brought this upon myself it is all my own mind.
Mom I can not believe.
Not in a god you claim made me this way.
Mom.
I do not want to be depressed.
I just want to be me.
To be free.
Not free from a demon
But free from me.
This isn't based off full truth but here's a poem.
Ashly Kocher Nov 2018
Apologizing is somewhat easy
Forgiving may take time
Forgetting is what makes it somewhat impossible
Natalie Sep 18
I did it
I regret it
I owned up to it
I apologized for it
and apologized for it
Apologized for it again
What more do you want from me?
What more do you need from me?
What else is there to say?
What else is there to do?
What else can I do?
I won’t apologize
I owned up to it
Regret nothing
I did it.
Done.
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
Every couple of days.
She comes around.
She claims to not like me.
She looks the other way.
When she needs me
She knows where to find me.
Reaching with open arms.
When no one is around she professes her love.
There is no other.
She breaks my heart.
The start of another week.
She claims to not like me.
She calls late night.
Apologizing for what she's done.
I never felt so bad.
It's coming to an end.
In another couple of days.
Things'll be back the same.
The same old same old.
Both our selfish ways.
She knows where to find me.
I have no clue where she is
zebra Oct 2017
oh better not say that
mind of hell
tongue of heaven
better not think depraved
veiled demon, licking ******* for car payments
God watches

what will people think

am i good person
birthday face
shut eyed stiff
not dangerous, like a gun in the face

did i say the right thing,
cypher of morality
the knot of good, a slow strangle
a frightened worm
wont risk tears

eeek
here come the scissors

technology brains wired like weaponized monkeys
eater of crumbs
heatless heart ransomed for the ******* rent

can i evaporate
like a dead cat in a black box
better then tripping all over my self

strings attached with hooks
on shunted limbs
a relic of modernism,
office life

talking scapegoats hissing
always haunted by what's missing

guts spilling through clutched fingers
apologizing to a faceless crowd of sea shells
and bagged heads

minds like the small screens
sitting all day

frenetic fingers and burning eyes
exhaling only

there's a part of me thats been crying since birth

be careful
what you do
in the land of the free and the brave
L B Oct 2018
Friend one:
Reads "Rotten Tomatoes"
Always early, parks in a handicap zone

Friend two:
quietly disapproves
knows Friend one walked her dog a mile earlier

Friend one:
moves her car
digs out two waters, chocolate
and back pillow
buys peace and tickets

Friend two:
catches sneeze with *** of tissue
aggravated exchange:
about walking too fast ahead.
“Are you not my friend?  Walk with me!”
Buys popcorn

Friend one: 
  wants seats on the end
for handy bathroom runs

Friend two:
does not want “the blow by blow” of reasons
just not in rafters
sneezes, and says so
trips
spills popcorn on the stairs

Friend one:
Sets up “camp”

Friend two:
holds crap

Friend one:  
Settles in, builds her "nest"
opens water bottles
arranges back pillow
half-a-million napkins
“Want your jacket?”

Friend two:
holds popcorn, helps Friend one with jacket

Friend one: 
  pushes button for her seat back
seat sounds like a ****.

Friend two:
says so, both laugh like fools  
Friend two sneezes loudly, rubs her eyes
loses self in movie

Friend one:
starts to snore quietly

Friend two:
nudges her

Friend one:
(Who is never really snoozing)
runs out to restroom
misses best part of movie
Comes back,
“What happened?”
What happened?”

Friend two:
aggravated
hushes her
takes allergy pill

Friend one:
weeping at the end, watches all the credits
starts her review
apologizing to the kids of theater-cleaning-crew
popcorn, napkins, tissues everywhere

Friend two:  
Sneezes yet again

Friend one:
Knows all the stars--
of friendship

being how she is one :)
Joanne is a best friend from teaching days.  We love movies, wine, and dinner.  Noticing our comfortable routine today, made me smile.  Told her I was writing this.  Everyone should have well-loved friend.  :)
Stained Glass Apr 12
Some days
he is more eagle
than man
and he is learning
how to stop apologizing
for his wild.
Stained Glass Mar 28
"you could push me off a cliff

and i would hit the ground

apologizing

for standing so close to the edge."
e fields Jun 25
I can't keep apologizing for myself
I can't keep apologizing
There's a barmaid
Who looks just like you used to.
She winks at all the patrons
with swinging picks, pipes to lay, bones to lick
what have you, what have you
Scissors, even.
Sharpening intermingled moonlight mix:
The clanging din.

And so she winks
bringing forth the image of
nobler times when we behaved
no different but the doors were
made sturdily, with love,
by master carpenters,
the spaces between glass dimensions
of windows were enchanted
by muttered incantations
woven in.

She reminds me of another
busted nurturing type familiar
to boys and girls alike
the world over.
Close that door please, would
you sir, that draft will let
the spirits win.
Back to what I was saying,
where were we again,
where ever were we.
I can't keep apologizing.
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.
Yuki Jan 13
How do I forgive my eyes
for their weakness
turned to tears
in the middle of my sleep?
For all the times
I’ve been awake at night
apologizing to the pillow
for never being able
to keep it dry.
"I'm sorry." That singular phrase. I hate it, it makes me feel weak.
No one ever means it. They should give up and just not speak.
It's a habit of mine to say sorry for something I'm not sorry for.
I'm not sorry, not one bit. I hate that it is part of me, it's an eyesore.
Please stop my pity parties. I can't contain them, please help me.
I'm sorry I'm like this. I'm sorry I'm the one making an apology.
I can't stop saying sorry. It's an essential part of my internal code.
It seems that I'm sorry is the only phrase my brain wants to upload.
I'm incredibly sorry and I don't really know why?
Maybe I'm apologizing for something useless that I identify?
I have many questions for my sorry brain, why am I sorry? What for?
I see this as a negative quality that no one will ever adore.
I keep saying sorry, I don't know how to stop it, please help me
I can't stop, help me get rid of this depressing and pitiful apology
I hate myself for feeling this weak, I'm definitely not strong
I hate that my feeling of strength always feels wrong.
I can't stand this feeling of being unwanted wherever I go
My tears say I'm sorry and they fall like glistening snow
I'm sorry that each time I say it, I start crying uncontrollably
I'm sorry that you can't really help me, it will go on inconsolably.
I will always be sorry, there's no changing that fact
I always apologize to people only when I'm feeling attacked
You can't help me in any way possible, I'm forever broken
No one can hear me scream because I will always be outspoken.
I'm an extremely apologetic person, so this poem portrays what I think each time I say that I'm sorry.
london b blue Oct 2017
we were drinking wine out of mason jars
and spinning records on the floor.

getting kicked out of our basement bedrooms for burning memories and starting fires.

we were young and leave each other every other week. you and i, we pass each other on the street.

you're in the car that almost hits me and honks instead of apologizing, but you get out and kiss
me after.

we stop traffic you know.
 as time progresses for everyone else but loops around and pauses for the two of us.

if the stars were to say we're a fatal combination
i'd say, **** the stars,

nobody speaks for the dead except the people speaking for God and what right did they have?

what cult do i have to join to get to heaven?

where do i sign my body away?

when i signed the papers to become an ***** donor my mother asked me if i was okay with somebody taking my eyes,

nobody sees with their eyes it is beneath them, they can take them.

you, you take what you need.

you put your hand in the cookie jar expecting to bite so you never know sugar but honey.

i am here.

in your waiting room

in your bookshelf

in your breath.

you’re dreaming of a better place.

i'm never leaving before you wake up.
derailed-trains Nov 2018
hey. the morning skies looked like they held the secret ingredient for a perfect day. should have taken that as a bad sign. harmless mornings don't always translate into lenient nights. i think i'll never get over this hurdle that keeps appearing on my chest. i'm always anticipating that the ship we're on is bound to crash and sink even when the seas are calm. i'm tired of looking for handkerchiefs in the places we cried in, or in waiting for an embrace after falling off a cliff. i knew that it would hurt, but you were supposed to make the impact a little less painful. i think i'll always long for that reassurance that never came. you made me familiarize abandonment. who wouldn't? when you always sailed away every time i needed an anchor. this was supposed to be another apology letter, you know. even if you should be the one doing the apologizing. well, here goes my apology. but only because this turned out to be a confession. and... **** it, i admit, i, too, have failed to do right by you.
this thing in my chest keeps on feeling, i don't want it anymore.
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