I'm sorry,
I'm sorry for being such a screw up
And trying to cover it with other personality traits.
I'm sorry that I can't fix things,
I'm sorry that you're hurt and I can't help.
Maybe if I was more whole,
then I could
I'm sorry,
I'm sorry that no matter how hard you try,
You can't fix me because maybe I can't be fixed,
Maybe I'll always be this broken.
Maybe I'm meant to be this broken
YOU ARE READING
A Public Poetry Diary
PuisiA poet is only as good as their muse, All of mine happen to bring sorrow.
