i would apologize for the months i spent under the covers, under the weight of your heart when i was waiting to resurface, searching for the right moment to speak against your wrath. when i went about carelessly, being submitted to your desires, and ending every night with a body undesired. unwillingly you made me stay, you turned me away from what i want, who i was, and tore me down without a sound. you infiltrated my system like a parasite does their victim and when i finally flushed you out, you accused me to be the villain. still, you lacerate me for an apology

but i have no sorrow for you.

in the wounds of wrong lovers
i acknowledge you as another:
you weakened my tender heart in passing
gaslighting more of my romantic being
than you ever deserved seeing

so if i’m seething behind this ink i spill
it is because it is this pen that restrains me still
but you are not fucking deserving of my being
when my being is wounded, unsafe and healing
and you are only seeking a thrill

i ached for a distraction
and you desired a pawn
and i thought that if i hurt you
it would be straight to the heart

but heartless is the body
that seeks outward destruction
and i deserve more
than a soulless connection

now you’re the one
aching for a distraction
and your fragmented illusions
have grown unsupported
in the forest of your depression

your pleads are littering
the field that used to be green
and gone are my cleansing apologies
when it is your own delusion
that caused such desecration

stuck
sinking in the wild of your youth
you descend aghast at your own doom
you bash upon the ground to save you
and it lacerates your skin, unable to

a cry escapes from your feeble lips
but it’s inaudible to the hollow world
now at your hips

and i have resurfaced
just as the sun shines again
holding high in the sky
like peace does in my mind

i have no sorrow for you
or for your demise