PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. I know it may seem that way now, but none of this is about you and none of this is your fault. It’s my fault. I can’t face what I feel—what I am. It’s not that I don’t love you, because believe me I do. I’m just not brave like you. You were always better than me. Everyone was always better than me. Maybe, I didn’t love you enough. Enough to come clean to my parents about us. But I’m begging you to understand that I wanted to, God, I wanted to but I just couldn’t. I tried and I tried because I wanted to be better for you and I wanted to be what you needed me too but I just kept imagining their faces. Every night when I try to fall asleep, I see what their faces would look like if I told them. Their eyes, full of hatred, haunt me and their words and their accusations slice through me. Failure, good-for-nothing, fag.

You’d probably tell me that I should stop worrying about things that haven’t happened yet and that their words aren’t real. But you always see the best in people. It’s one of the reasons I love you. But you can never understand that though their words might not be real to you, they are as real to me as the bullet in my hand. But nothing could hurt as much as those words, not even death. Tell my mom that I’m sorry and tell my dad that I wish I could have been the son he always wanted, the son he deserved.

I guess now everyone will know about us. But no matter what they say to you, just know that you are not to blame.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I love you.