Dear apologyMature

If there was a specific heat
no one could describe it
whether it was the darkened nights
led by angry fights
to a walk out
and a sit in
whose burning eyes
and torn up veins,
to stitched up throats
and balled up fists
to a broken heart
that I never could mend.
If anything were more broken
if anything were more,
my fault.
Could I even dare
Look you in the eye?
No,
and this is why
because I loved you
and I'd hurt you
in a way
I didn't think I'd hurt anyone
I was too concerned
with the future
and what kind of person I'd be
to care
about what I was doing
in the present.
So an apology
cannot mend those scars
or wash away the bruises
nor can it
wipe away
those words
it cannot fix
broken hands
that tried to block the noise
so,
my dear,
I write about you
because you are a match
to my gasoline.
a flame
I'd hold so close
and deny the consequences.

The End

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