The apology
I’m just tired . . .
I thought
it was you
the endless conversations
the accusations
the judgments
the drama of all of it
I was wrong . . .
you make me sad not angry
wistful not furious
wondering
what if . . .
why?
I’m just tired . . .
of me
my anger that escapes
my control
like wisps of silent smoke
toxic and poisonous
to all around me
I was wrong . . .
to think
to expect
the perfect parent
judging you
what you cannot do
what I’ve never had to do
I’m just tired. . . .
of running
into constant reminders
of you
of me
of you and me
what we do to each other
I was wrong . . .
to avoid you
to run away
forever hiding
forever avoiding
my own beast
I’m just tired . . .
of pounding my head
against a moving wall
going nowhere
trying to go everywhere
while running in place
I was wrong . . .
to think
to analyze
to contemplate
to believe I know
who I am not
instead of who I am
I’m . . .
just . .
tired.
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