I`m Sorry

This is for the ones who will never remain, the ones who see the worst and survived. You’ve seen me fucked up once again, not sober, not smart, but still here Believe me — I missed you even when I walked away for nothing, slammed doors, cut lines, set fire just to feel something. I torched bridges for the glow, only iron refused to fall. Now I stand up high like I’ve conquered — truth is, I don’t like myself at all. This is for the ones condemned to love me — I’m sorry. Too late for some beginnings, too unready for the rest. Courage comes in short supply, time slips out my chest. I drown inside my own reflection, take up too much space again. For every explosion, every blacked-out night, every vanished week without a word, every day I carried rot on my skin, every wound, every heart I hurt. Every wound. Every heart I hurt. Forgive the sudden highs and crashes — I’m still learning how to stand. I don’t know if this ever settles, if I’ll grow into this man. Everyone wants their pound of flesh, love feels sharper than before. From now on I’ll face the mirror instead of blaming war. Because deep inside there’s something vicious — not noble, not profound. A savage voice that hoards the damage, cuts it up and packs it down. An addict. A drunk. A coward. A thief. Tell me — how do you still love me? You talk about a fighter in my blood, a hero underneath the stain. You think I’m out there saving worlds — I’m just trying to outrun shame. Still — since you walked into my life I learned what mercy means. You showed me grace exists even for the in-between. So this is for the ones who carry me — I’m sorry. For every outburst. Every hollow stare. Every week I disappeared. Every time I wasn’t there. For every scar. Every shattered heart. Every shattered heart. Every shattered heart.