sonic crown
You
From your delicate mouth came the answer
I should have predicted-
a soft, careful “okay”,
the kind that isn’t agreement
but an exit dressed as politeness.
I can’t stop.
I thought my closeness was harmless.
I thought affection could only be warm.
I didn’t see how leaning in too far
can feel like being pushed.
It did disturb you.
And that weight settles on me now-
heavy, undeniable, mine.
I should have said sorry.
Now my letter sleeps unread,
paper flowers wilting in a drawer
that will never open for me again.
You thought we followed you.
We didn’t.
But intent doesn’t erase fear.
And now I don’t know
if you’ll ever speak my name again
without it tasting wrong.
My feelings join the others-
misplaced, misread, forgotten.
You were only the second person
I ever loved.
And somehow,
I ruined it with the same hands
that only wanted to hold.
My mind unravels tonight.
I cry those quiet tears-
the kind that don’t sob,
just fall,
clear and endless,
like rivers that forgot where they were going.
Each one heavier than the last,
each one shining like a diamond
I never wanted to own.
I should say sorry.
That’s probably what I’ll do.
Because today I learned something simple
and cruel:
when you hurt someone,
intentionally or not,
love doesn’t excuse it-
you fix it.
So I’ll say sorry.
An apology shaped like hope,
even if it’s unwanted,
even if it arrives too late.
And still, I can’t stop thinking about you-
butterflies panicking in my chest,
multiplying, colliding,
dying and being reborn all at once.
I don’t know what else to do.
I don’t know if words can mend this.
I just pray they’re enough.
I can’t stop.
My eyes open again in the dark.
Sleep is a language I used to speak.
Tonight, it’s foreign.
Rest refuses me.
Thoughts of you don’t.
So I stay awake,
replaying moments I can’t rewrite,
rehearsing apologies I might never say aloud.
I need to say sorry.
Don’t I?
hollow wigeon
wet sapphire