"Last week, i walked through the part of the city i loved when i still loved you, our old haunts. you know, even the ghosts have moved on.”
― Warsan Shire
Sorry I’m not god
Sorry I couldn’t get him to answer your call
Sorry I was made of faults instead of wishes
Instead of bridges built you ditches
Sorry I was average
Half empty and not half full
Sorry for your childhood that built that wall I’ve been scraping away at, sorry that I can’t change what happened but I’m trying my best to make what happens after better
Sorry you can’t see that
Sorry you can’t ever see what’s good for you, sorry I’m what’s good for you
That your heartbreaks don’t make you a martyr
That there isn’t better
Sorry you wanted better
You’ve always wanted better but never got what you wanted sorry you never got what you wanted everyone deserves a break sometimes
But people break into pieces sometimes instead so I’m sorry you’re broken
That you still fall apart
That it’s ugly
I’m sorry that you’re ugly when you fall apart, that you’ve put the wrong pieces back together I’m sorry you can’t get it right
That you can’t see someone else in the mirror that no one wants to look back, not even you
Sorry you’re not okay
That I can’t make you okay I want to make you okay I want to make you okay so badly that I pretend that I’m okay so you’ll be okay I’m sorry I’m dying in the process of saving your life
Sorry that you’d prefer to be dead, that I’d bring you back to life sorry for trying to bring you back to life I just want to spend some time with you…
via ohmyearth at
So this is where we’re delivered. We are too the same and we are too different. Neither one of us will appease or be pacified. You want too little, I want too much. You are altogether too tired, too scared. I am altogether too brisk, too brave. There are things that scare me, loving you with every fibre of my being is not one of them. It’s the easiest and the hardest thing. The first time I saw you, nothing was ever the same again and I knew my life would change. It came so naturally, the ebb and flow; so effortless.
You have walked miles, laboured hours for lovers that ended too soon. Your years, your scars, your pains…you wear them on your face. Your beautiful face, the face that would quite literally take my breath away on mornings you would spend with me. Inexplicable. You’re perfect.
Perhaps it’s a question of timing, perhaps it’s a question of you and me. My only fear is that you will never know how scared I am that walking away is a mistake. A fear not paralyzing enough.
I am sad, I am beautiful, I am restless and not tired enough.