There I go, again –
striving for adequate
and coming up short.

The only saving grace
to pick out of this wreck
is that no one will ever
be able to convince me
it wasn’t all my fault.

You may think that’s harsh,
but there’s no lesson worth
learning more than the one
that teaches responsibility.

I loved you.
And you crushed me.
You realized your mistake.
And I let you back in.
I told myself it was different.
And it wasn’t.

So, being of the fairer sex
and therefore somewhat
predisposed to apologizing
abundantly and without fault,

I’m sorry for letting myself
love again and I’m sorry
for wasting your time.

I hope you’ve said
everything you ever
meant to say because
this is the last time
you ever get to
speak my name
with any chance
I will hear you.


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