Sorry

Okay imagine you have two personalitys
One is strong and cold hearted that wants nothing more than to protect your other half, but sometimes gets alittle feeling and gets carried awayby it only to hurt the other half it wanted to protect
The other is broken and is weighed down by betrial and fear, it is also easily hurt by being let down and mean or harsh words
Pick one and write a poem about their interaction
And how that side is sorry to the other And apologizing
Two entries per person
Please try to keep them short
Rhyming is always good

can I pick something I've already written?

Protection

She broke your heart
I'll kill that fucking bitch
Break her fucking neck
And smile watching her twitch

Your heart in the wrong direction
she did lead
Nothing will make me happier
Then watching that cunt bleed

I know you love her
And you still have affection
All i can say is sorry
Looking at my reflection

Dark , scary, creepy places and the cliche'  .


Took a walk to the theatre, this morning, Daphne’ allows me to be alone there, centre stage and she’s been opening those doors for me since I was 16, strange that, when I think back, it’s been 24 years of it

Started back, when we performed the first lead of our life, was also when we gave up school for dance, sing and act, holding her hand up the stairs, keeping her wardrobe tidy, cleaned and packed, sharing her lines, steps and voice, I would visit that theatre for each day of every performance, I would sit centre stage, in the dark and feel that room, I’d sit there and feel it from eight in the morning too as late as 2 or 3 in the afternoon, when the cleaners arrived and she had to sit herself in front of the dressing room mirror, for wardrobe and makeup, I never left her side

Oh had my share of ridicule for her, always did, always will, back on the fields that schoolboys used to play football and rugby on, they would hiss and spit, I took the hisses and spits for her, she was worth it, oh and the slander “he must be gay”, “cross dresser!” I took the name calling for her, she was worth it, but one gets ridicule and then one gets non acceptance and the two things differ profusely, some how prejudice is easier to accept, when it is just hissing, spitting and name calling, you’ll understand that she has never understood why, she may dance, act and sing, but is not allowed to write, I’ve explained it to her promised never to stand on her stage again either, let’s see how, she does with that, while I suppose your point is valid and I should hang for letting her have a go at it, it’s not like we created a delusional illusion of membership for the sale of books and publicity, or used anyone else’s words, but her own

So this morning, I took a walk through the dark hallways of that theatre, saw speckles on the carpet (can’t say I understood them) Tried to read the smudged lipstick on the dressing room mirror (couldn’t quite put the words together) and found myself sitting in my space, centre stage, in the dark, with the voices shouting their words at me like kinsmen and courtesans, but if my ears could comprehend the foreign languages and knew who to concentrate on. I would most probably abide and listen, if only I understood, what the request was, to be honest these haunted walls seem to sing of promise and fortune but lead no path their, even the Sherlock Holmes hat and magnifier, didn’t help

I suppose it’s much like board games really, I’ve never found myself the king of snakes and ladders or noughts and crosses, more a Trivial Pursuit type, you know ask a question, I’ll tell you the answer, after all is that not what this was about in the first place?

So it would be sensible to apologise for her breakthrough, but it’s not always easy to keep them all at bay, so I apologise that I forgot to take my pills, I apologise that I allowed her to write. But I can’t stop her living, she’s been there since we were first born, I can promise to tie her up, and that I’ll do

So yes, I am sorry, more than you can measure and no, none of us suffer the fate of OCD or ADHD


[.]

im sorry for what I have done
I hate you bitch,
I hope you forgive me
your face gives me a twitch.

I love you till the day I die
I hope its soon,
why do I abuse your heart
your as fat as a balloon.

I have said alot of mean things
knowing I meant alot,
no matter what I love you
I havent hit you with all I got.

I will let you do everything you want
you shouldn't be breathing my air,
I cant wait forever
why should I be there?

you are my only one
you deserve a cunt punt,
your all I have ever wanted
now I go on lady hunts.

I will never leave you
at least for now,
please stay here forever
your a fat ass cow.

Its time to rid myself
of all I done,
lets choose your death
with my little gun.

I will protect you
That is what I'd like to say
But whatever I try to do
It never comes out okay

I can never show you the sky
I cannot relinquish your fears
I cannot teach you how to fly
All I can do is wipe away your tears

Maybe you won't believe me
Not trust the things I've said
Maybe you won't see
Until we are in our bed

I hope you wont see my nightmare
Filled with the things I left unspoken
I want you to always care
And never to be broken

I am here to take your pain
To stand strong for you
Give you an umbrella for the rain
And keep you safe too

But I made a wrong choice
I listened to my heart
Ignoring your pleading voice
And accidentally tore you apart

The Nervous Prison

"I have never felt so free,"
My heart tells my mind,
"I have never felt so free
As to beat
To think
And love apart from you."
With this
My collosum
Synapsed a smile
Like a crack of lightning
Through the cortex
"Oh foolish one,
Look around you, and tell me what you see."
His tone mild, however
Condescending
In his wise manner, he spoke
"See the tree's around you,
You speak so freely next to them
And neglect to acknowledge that it is their whispers
That cause you to ache so,
Your words twisted up like litter
In their roots.
Look at the road you stand on
And tell me you have a direction to go on it or the choice to follow it to the home you do not have.
Tell me those painted lines
Do not dictate your path,
Do not hold you to the left or right.
You, my silly friend,
Are not free
Merely just as reckless as I allow you to be."
With this
My heart falls silent,
And despite the furious rebellion inside it
Continues
To fuel
The means of its nervous prison.

I'm aware that there is no trace of apolgetic nature in this poem, but personally I find it difficult to try and write something pretaining to that stipulation when I see such polar forces as titants waging against one another. I'm sure my heart would be sorry... Its such a passive thing.

I told you no
for everything you want,
you said you love me
I called you a cunt.

I kept you away from this world
a world full of friends,
you finally stopped it
you gave it an end.

as you left me
I woke up to see,
that I am on my own
me and my stupidity.

well I am sorry
yes, Mr.hard ass is broken,
I have said too much
you I have been beating.

im sorry for everything
I am sorry for who I am,
I have treated you so bad
and I know you dont give a damn.

but if you can forgive me
for I am sorry,
I have opened my eyes for the first time
I can see clearly.

I said, "I will just leave you alone
for your heart cant take it no more,
I will move on to someone else"
as I closed the door.

Two Sides Of The Same Hurt


Did you know that I wept
on your shoulder while you slept
regretting what Ive done to you
over the years
over time
through many tears

Allowing you to dwell in the sadness
of not being me
of not knowing yourself
as someone independent and free

My razor blade smile thinned out your skin
until the dermis revealed your weakness within

Now you sleep in the dark and I wonder why
no more tears fall from your eye
that like sand has become dry

Maybe I caused too much hurt
to fix the damage done
by being a selfish I
by letting you run

And die in the streets alone
where moans mix with blood
and the mutts feast on your bones

I meant to say I'm sorry
I meant for so much more
than what I could give you
my diminished other half
the weaker one by far

But it'll heal
the scar

It'll heal...

“Sorry Begging”
http://paulocoelhoblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/forgiveness.jpg
So many say them, but
how many really mean it.
It’s so hard to whisper
the overused words,
“I’m sorry” for something
I meant to do.
If I screamed them,
wore them on my shoulder,
got bolder and held you down,
yelled them in your ear,
would it matter to you.
After all,
forgiveness is
one’s discretion,
yours.