I'm sorry.

I'm sorry if I've caused you any sadness these past couple days.

I'm sorry if I creeped you out.

I'm sorry if I disgusted you with the idea of my love.

I'm sorry if I put a bullet through your heart.

I'm sorry if I don't seem sorry in person.

But God, I'm sorry.

I may not know exactly how you feel, but I do know one thing.

I royally fucked up.


It's been about a month since my last full nights sleep.

About a month since my last full day without tears.

About a month since my last moment of peace or happiness.

About a month since I've truly smiled.

About a month since I've laughed fully.

And I don't want to go another month without.


I know I'm disposable, easy come easy go,

just another person on an entire planet full of 'em.

I know I'm just another friend in an already full pool,

but where I was just another grain of sand on your beach, you were my sunset.


If you think I'm happy where I am, that I've moved on,

think again.

I've never been sadder than this cold February.

I don't care if I die trying, but I want you to talk to me again.


I'm sorry for being greedy, for trying to catch a wild animal.

I never excpected to love you either, sometimes things just happen.

I'm sorry my love spilled out and smothered your light.

But now I can barely breath.


My heartbeat has slowed down, and I really want to try this again.

Just be friends, friends who draw pictures to each other.

Friends who try new things together.

Friends who are there for each other when one just wants a friend.


I'm sorry doesn't even begin my apology.

The poetry I've written and sings I've composed can't compare to emotion.

I feel like shit everyday you ignore me.

Is it out of hatred? Disgust? Annoyance? All 3?

I just don't know for sure.


I can see you don't want to go back,

that you are already pressing forward again.

But won't you take one small step my direction?


For the good old times?

For the cupcake smashed in my face?

For the penguin hat?

For the book? (You still owe me for that one ;)


If you want me to sing to make it up, I will.

If you want me to embarrass myself, I will.

If you want me to write you 1,000 poems, I will.

I'll do anything just for you to talk to me again.


This poem is about: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741