I am too weak to emote my words. I am sorry. I am sorry for hurting you, for making you seem unimportant and meaningless in my life when its actually the opposite, for ignoring you, for being a know-it-all abrasive bitch, for being selfish, for acting like I don’t care, for disappointing you, for blaming you, for killing your happiness and my own, for all the misplaced anger, for all the things I couldn’t say. We think after we beg for forgiveness we will fix all of our errs but in reality we just create more, as we get older the extent our mistakes just grow and we dig ourselves into even deeper holes.
I will never be alone.
I have the pounding reminder of your existence,
the ringing shrill in my head.
The voice of reason.
The voice that haunts.
I walk with the knowledge that plagues me,
I carry it with me.
I carry it all.
My life, my soul, changes every day
but the ringing ceases to stop.
What is found cannot be lost
Haunted.
Plagued.
Usually, I’m fine, I get out of bed and move on with my day, but there’s those times when everything hurts and it seems like there’s nothing left. The days between grow longer, and happiness stays for more and more but the pain and longing is still there, deep below all the moments of everyday life.
