I’m Sorry

I miss him,
oh god I miss him,
when I go to bed.

“I’m sorry I left”, I whisper
to the memories from our past
that come knocking at the
door, not understanding
why they’ve been cut off.

“I’m sorry we can’t attend”,
I scrawl to the moments
in the future that will just
never translate into reality.

I’m sorry.

Sorry is louder than the desire to sleep.

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