, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,


i’m sorry
by: allison ryder

i’m sorry.
anchored down by thoughts;
don’t want to mess this up.
over-thinking. not giving the time
and space needed. trying too hard
when I know,
we don’t need to try at all.
such a rarity to find someone, who instantly
lights a spark within your soul- who instantly
delivers the desire for it to bloom. desire.
pushed too hard; an effect of desire.
desire for him. desire to touch him. desire to
kiss his lips of intrigue. desire to be let in,
to be a part of, some part of
his life. the aspects that mean the most to him.
i try. desire runs through my veins, it motivates me,
more than it should perhaps.

thoughts infect my behavior, they poison
my world when i let them get the best of me.
thoughts move my fingers at a rapid speed,
through technology – my voice, my actions –
all increased speed,
not to watch this good fade
into a mere memory, when we could be the ones who last.
but the only way to know, is to give it a chance –
to let life take its course, and just
be a part of it all. together.
anchored by thoughts because,
well because….
i’m afraid.
i’m sorry.

had to watch this fear surface
and you distance from me, to realize-
my thoughts that feed on my being
must be ripped from my bones,
set out in the wind. my fear of time, of loss,
of not getting the chance to begin, before it ends-
was drowned in the current when the waves tried to drown me.
i stand today, a new version of myself;
in a new place, a better me.
but i’m sorry.
for yesterday. for the yesterday’s i cannot change.

true realization that no change will come
from stressing over the uncontrollable actions of others;
brings about a life altering moment. a moment
of real change and growth, that is irreversible.
oh, how i longed for this change- to stop the destruction
of myself, from my own mind.
i know what i am. i know who i am.
perhaps i tried too hard, pushed too far,
against the sand spilling in the hour glass-
for my road has been long and our meeting intense,
instant, amazing, right.
the hour glass was a ticking time bomb in my mind. exploded
into flames, as i tore myself away.
but i am enough. i am worth it.

hope alone can save me now. hope
that my actions can be forgiven, my flaws
bypassed, my fears understood – most of all –
hope that my heart can be given that chance. that I
can be given the chance. for my heart beats
from a rare thread, i believe yours beats from too.
these words are not simply ink on a page,
they reveal truth. they are an enormous part of me.
they are the deepest part you cannot always see.
they mean something.
I’m sorry.