PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I tremble with the foreboding of what I

want to say, but the words refuse to

come out.  They’re stuck

somewhere between my teeth and

soul.  Such a simple thing it would

seem, to apologize, to tell you how

regretful I am, letting you know

what a wretch I have become,

hiding it all within.  

Why didn’t someone tell me what an awful

burden it would become, unwieldy

and heavy as time quietly slipped past?

How is it that I can’t I simply tell

you what I want?  The taste of it

has become bitter and dry upon my

tongue, the weight of it a stone in

the back of my throat.  Yet I refuse

to speak and spit my contemptible

load out, instead I carry it close,

nestled next to my conscience.  An

evil secret none may guess at.  I

worry about the tarnish I might

acquire in your eyes if I say these

words; I dread the explanation you

may rightly demand.  What would I

say? I am sure no words of mine

could make the world right again.

Would you leave me even if I

begged your forgiveness?  Or

would you take me in your arms,

letting me know that no matter the

problem, your love for me is

eternal?  I can’t gamble my

absolution on your ability to

forgive, I fear you, and this power I

have allowed you to have over me

and this talent I have developed for

my self-destruction.