I’m sorry.

By Farahna Alam
This time it’s different,
you won’t cross the line.
This time you tell yourself
She will be fine.

A crack. A slip. You can’t go back
Gave up, caved in. You turned your back
A year, a month,  or just a second;
Could change a have into a haven’t

A year, a month,  or just a second;
The clean white slate has now been blackened.
Next time, not now, the next and next.
Too late, she’s gone, it can’t be fixed.

And then you say
“The fault is mine.”
While u drifted away,
She wasn’t fine.

She cried. She screamed, and cried some more.
But the monsters were there, hidden in her core.
She smiled, she lied, she pushed them away.
They tried to help,  she threw it away.

This time it’s different,
you didn’t cross the line.
You tried your best,
But she still wasn’t fine.

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