Comment 1

i’m sorry

What if i’m sorry
and what if you’re not
and what if the disparity that causes
feels like friction against my skin
like the itch from your flannel shirt
the one i used to wear
just to feel like i was part of something
that was yours
and what if you’re sorry
and what if I’m not
and what if that tension
boils your insides
like frayed rope tying itself to dust
it can never hold
burning, burning, burning,
just like we did
to everything we never actually called ours
but i swear that home looked like old polaroids
with smudges of your fingerprints
some type of monument
to all the destruction we left behind
and what if we’re both sorry
but what if we’re not
and what if your hand on mine
will forever feel like sandpaper on torn skin
the kind we ripped open
clawing, clawing, clawing
insisting the other would never give in.

1 Comment

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