My Poetry Collection

Discomfort

I made you uncomfortable.

I wanted to help you,
but it was as if I couldn't touch you.

There was some sort of boundary that I wanted to cross so badly, but I was afraid you'd lose your trust in me if I did.

I didn't want to take down your walls brick by brick.

I wanted to set fire to them and lie in the ashes with you.

But that would make you uncomfortable.

I didn't want that.

God, I didn't want that.

I wanted to make you happy.

Even if it took a little time.

But I didn't have patience.

So I lost you completely.

I gave up.

For some ridiculous reason.

I looked at you for too long today, or maybe it was yesterday, I don't know anymore.

But you saw me.

Staring.

Dying.

You looked at me.

And you jerked away.

I continue to discomfort you.

You once told me that I apologise so much that the words don't have meaning anymore.

But I'm sorry.

And I was sorry.

And I continue to be sorry.

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I'm not sure why I'm still doing this.