2:57 a.m.

 

and I'm ticking pointless apologies off in the darkness

sorry about the debris I left behind
sorry about my name etched on your bones
sorry about the feelings surrounded by thorns
sorry about the stringed-puppet chains on your life
sorry about the promises left on backs of milk cartons
sorry about sewing up your place under my skin
sorry about my dark dissolving faith
sorry about decomposing while you begged “baby, name your price”
sorry about the blood on the sheets

sorry I was supposed to find you before anyone else

 

sorry I never came home

From the forthcoming Shattered Anthology to be published by Kind of a Hurricane Press.

Update: Unfortunately Kind of a Hurricane Press is closed indefinitely, and the rights to this poem have been returned to me.

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