I’m sorry.
For what I have seen,
For what I have heard.
For what I have done,
For what I have told.
For what I have told.
The lies and the truths,
All jumbled in my words.
Am I being honest?
Or am I being absurd?
Sometimes even I can’t tell,
What’s clear and what’s blurred.
Is it a whole lie,
Or just a simple reword?
For what I have seen,
You said not to look.
But you can’t control the internet,
Only my books.
There’s no turning back,
Not anymore.
I enjoy what I see,
I see nothing I abhor.
For what I have heard,
Curse words flying everywhere.
I only half-listen,
I don’t really care.
You of course do,
But to that I say whatever.
You ask when I will stop,
Not now and not ever.
For what I have done,
Been mean and had hurt.
Physically and mentally,
My strength I tried to exert.
I’m sorry for the things
That I’ll never tell you.
Do you feel that way?
Will you apologize too?
Author notes
Er, it actually originally started with the idea for a poem about the fear of living with a secret, but it sort of became this. It's sort of messed up, too, so I actually need help for this one.
Sort of. Not really. Whatever.
