Before you’ve finished speaking,
I can feel it washing over me
bile climbing up my throat
lips pursed with apologies
I stammer syllables without knowing
what wrong I have committed.
Your eyes, so fierce and fiery
they singe my soul
they brand me like a hot poker
I cower in fear, cornered by regret
“I’m so sorry.”
My words are as worthless
as empty bottles
to someone dying of thirst in the desert.
I grasp at anything, a semblance of forgiveness
next time, next time,
next time it will be different.
I will be better, I swear!
And yet you are as cold as stone
a statue upon whose feet I weep.
Because the truth is, I tried
I tried so hard to please you,
to win that elusive grin
and be able to call it my own.
But trying to please you
is like trying to run into a wall
hoping it will open into platform 9 and three quarters.
I’ve ran into that wall so many times
my foggy mind can’t even remember
what I’m doing anymore.