Member-only story
I’m Sorry Comes Too Late
A Poem
i know you never left her,
not really,
and i’m sorry i couldn’t be
what you wanted most.
“i’m sorry” —
that’s too sad, isn’t it,
when it can’t erase
what i did to you at all.
you can lie about who you are —
i don’t care anymore —
but when i say i love you,
i mean it fast and true.
your intellect fascinated me
again and again and again
till i couldn’t decide
what i really wanted from you.
and you said i made you feel something —
was it rage or something more?
oh, i didn’t mean to be pages
in your sordid history.
but your songs enthralled me,
and i didn’t know the half of it,
till i was wasted on your bed,
hoping for some kind of sanctity.
i’m sad again and again and again,
i don’t even know why,
because i thought you were
something glorious, miraculous.
