i’m sorry
that i spent
ten whole minutes
with my fist rammed
down your throat
begging your stomach
to give you back
control.
i am sorry
that the person
you wanted to hold you
when your heart was
skipping too many beats
and your breath caught in your throat
does not even know
that it hurts
and that is what your sick mind
likes about him.
he won’t love you
even when your body
is carved like Aphrodite
and you are pretty
like a porcelain doll.
but that doesn’t mean
you won’t try.
i am sorry
that you love misery
and chasing people
who do not want you
and counting calories
and standing at the edge of
panic.
i know it makes you
feel alive.
so dear me:
the only thing
i can do
is apologize.
About the Creator
Sara
Don’t look for love.
Be love.
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The Solstice in Bad Gumption
‘How do we go about it?’ The group of three men and one boy shifted from foot to foot around a bonfire spluttering sparks in the bone chilling drizzle, a few hefty stones sitting amid the flames. They were thinking about all the time it took to get it going in this weather. Someone sniffed, someone coughed. They all felt cold and uneasy standing at the edge of the fields sprawling in front of them in the dusk, with their backs to the dripping birches surrounding the cemetery.
By Katarzyna Popiela day ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Gosh, Sara...so much going on here, despite the short lines and short number of words. Always find a way to blow me away! Well done!
Wow very powerful and emotional. Excellently written.