I'm sorry for the nights
that I could feel my bones
cracking in my body,
I did not mean
to take out my
anger on your fragile flesh.
I am sorry for the days
I could not lift my
cinderblock limbs out of my bed,
I was trying,
I was trying so hard.
I am sorry for the weeks
I didn't want to talk
for fear that my searing words
would hit you and shatter on impact.
I am sorry for the months
that I blocked out the sunlight
with my rain cloud thoughts
and hooded eyelids,
I cannot help my predetermined fate.
I am sorry for being sorry
about my own condition,
I am doing my best to succeed
with these thoughts.
There are bad days
that I am trying to be ok with,
and so many ways to begin
to slip into old habits,
but I am not sorry
for my brain.
