Litany of Apologies for the Sad Days
I am grasping at
your hand and you see, there’s this cliff. It appears in my bedroom every night and I wander to the edge. There’s something at the very end.
A god perhaps. Or a man who prays for the world to end.
I want to reach inside and –
Is this microphone working? Can you hear me when I say: I am sorry for waltzing in here and ruining Everything.
Maybe you can’t hear me over the sound of my heart, flayed and gasping.
It’s okay. I can wait. I’ve been waiting for days
to ask you what you think.
Is that normal? Is this normal?
Oh. It’s raining. It’s always raining when I’m sad.
I lost the thread of our conversation again but
I don’t want to apologize
So I close my eyes for a minute and look over the edge.
But there isn’t enough time to say goodbye.
Darling, I’m absolutely dripping sorrow. You know, I wish someone would tell me when it will happen. So I never have to wonder again.
It’s okay, darling. Nothing matters as much as the rain flooding my bedroom.
I want to reach inside my chest and squeeze.