and now, twelve years later, that you are hitting me with all the strength left in that fragile body, screaming "i hate you!" into my chest, i don't think you know how hard it is not to break the hug when the other person is screaming and shaking and hitting and cursing and protesting too much.
but tonight, i won't let go. tonight, i'll be the one wiping the tears.
i'll be the one to hold you till you are too sleepy to even remember what you were fighting me for.
i'll be the one to hug you before you drown in your own tears.
"i'm sorry."
i say, when your "i hate you"s finally start to turn into whispers and you fall asleep right there, in my arms.
"i'm sorry."
i don't stop saying, even halfway through the night.
"i'm sorry."
a tear rolls down from my eyes to the tip of my tongue, and that's when i realise,
that maybe this is what sinless apologies taste like.
YOU ARE READING
broken crayons
Short Storystatus: completed. "running, running, running, screaming. tripping, falling, hurting, bleeding." a daughter's second chance at love. #itsnotaphase PUBLISHED NOW. AVAILABLE ON AMAZON AND FLIPKART ORDER NOW.
