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I'm Sorry
Contributed by
bresettem
on
Monday, 24th December 2007 @ 07:46:44 AM in AEST
Topic:
EmotionalPoetry
|
I'm sorry
I'm just so sorry
I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you
I'm sorry that I couldn't do all the things that you wanted me to do
I'm sorry I'm not the perfect person in your life
I'm sorry I broke your favorite chair, even though I barely even touched it
I'm sorry I broke your favorite glass while doing the dishes
I was shaking so bad, I'm glad that I only broke one instead of all the rest.
I'm sorry I'm, shaking every time I'm around you. It's just I'm terrified
of being around you. Even when I think about you, I start to shake as if
there is no tomorrow.
I'm sorry I'm such an embarrassment in your life
I'm sorry that I have things that you will never have
I'm sorry, I'm just so sorry.
I'm sorry I cry when you throw me across the floor
I'm sorry the food isn't good enough for you
I'm sorry I'm not the person who you wanted me to be
I'm sorry I don't hit you back after you slap me across the face
I'm sorry my face turns red after awhile after you hit me or throw me
across the floor
I'm sorry I bled on your precious floor that I had to pay with my savings
that I had ever since I was a child
I'm sorry
No matter how many times I say sorry, you will always want more, I'll be
saying sorry to the day I die, I don't think it's that far off. Someday,
I will bleed too much or you hit me too far and when you do, you will
watch me die and my last words that I will speak will be, I'm sorry
I'm sorry for saying sorry
I'm sorry for breathing the same air as you
I'm sorry I'm in the same room as you
I'm sorry for all the things that you can't have
I'm sorry you can't have all the things that you want
I'm sorry I'm terrified of you
I just can't help it, I just do, I will always be afraid of you, I always
have and always will
Some part of me thought that I could change who you are but now I know
that it is pointless, people like you never change, will never allow
themselves to change
I'm sorry that you can't change
I'm sorry for everything that I have done to you and everyone around you
I'm sorry I do all of your chores so that you don't have to
I'm sorry for letting you seeing me cry
I'm sorry
I'm sorry for everything, everything that I didn't do, everything that you
won't let me do
I'm sorry for the Pain in your hand every time you slap me
I'm sorry I cause you Pain
I'm sorry for feeling sorry
It's just, I can't help it, I just am
How could a person like me, end up with a person like you? I would like
to know, I guess I thought I could change you. I thought wrong, you will
never change for anyone and I changed too much.
I'm sorry that you can't change. You can hit me all you want. I'm not
going to change anymore for you. If I looked into a mirror, I wouldn't
recognize myself but there's a problem, I can't look into a mirror. I've
broken them all when you have thrown me against them.
I'm sorry I broke all of your mirrors.
People say that when you break a mirror, you will have bad luck for seven
years. I think they're wrong, it not bad luck for seven years, it's so
much worse and so much longer
I'm sorry that they're wrong
With you around me, beating, smashing, throwing me, it's like I'm not
living on Earth anymore, I'm living beneath the soil, I am living in
Hell. Hell on Earth, that's where I'm living and that's where I am likely
to stay there. I'm there while I'm breathing and I'll still be there when
I'm not breathing. Both ways, I’m in hell and I'm staying there. No one
can get me out and I'm not sure even if there is a way out that I'm not
sure if there is a way out, I don't think that I'll leave, it has become
my home, the only place I've known. I have become attached to my living Hell, attached to the beatings, attached to things a person should never become attached to or even think about. I have become attached to
the Pain and I like the Pain. One day you will be sorry for beating me,
one day, but that one day may never come
I may not be alive when that day finally comes
It'll come too late
It'll come when I am long gone, gone for week before you even know that I
am gone
You’re the one that will be sorry, but for the moment, I'm the one that
that is sorry and I will remain sorry until the day that I die.
I believe that day, day that I will die, will be soon, very soon, it's so
near that I can feel it. It's so strong; I shake or is it the person that beats me senseless that makes me shake.
I shake whenever I'm around you and I also shake whenever I feel the
presence of Death. I feel the presence often, it's coming closer as the
day ticks on. It's ticking ever so slowly. It's slow enough it would
drive a person insane waiting for the next tick of Death's clock
Death has its own clock, the most valuable of all clocks, this clock
controls every person's life, every person's Death
This clock has no numbers on it nor does it have any hands taking the time
This clock is as black as the blackest night, black as an abyss
Nothing is on this clock, nothing at all
no expensive trim on the edges, no numbers or letters, nothing but blackness is on this clock, nothing else
A clock that has nothing on it but blackness is the most valuable clock
of all clocks, old and new.
I stare at Death's clock as it slowly ticks by
Each tick that it slowly ticks, my life is slowly ticking away and my
death is coming ever so slowly
I wait for the day that you kill me
Always waiting for you to hit me too much or you throw me across the room.
I wait for you to cause me Pain. I long for the Pain that you will inflict upon me the days to come. I've become attached to your beatings and I can't wait to experience it in the days to come. For no reason at
all I have always liked them and I will continue to look forward to your
beatings in the days to come.
I have no idea how people survive without someone beating them. I guess,
it's the fear of the beatings, at first. They'll get used to it after
awhile. I did. I will like when they get used to it. I know I did.
I'm sorry for liking your beatings that you induce upon me
I'm sorry that I don't cry anymore when you hit me has hard as you can
Is that the reason why you have increased the amount of beatings to
several times a day instead of just one a day, each day of the week
I'm sorry, I'm just so sorry
I'm sorry I don't bleed as much as I used to, I guess my body has gotten used to the beatings and have gotten stronger in response to it.
I'm sorry my body is not as weak as it used to be
I'm sorry for feeling sorry
All the times I say sorry, I mean it, I always do but you never believe
me, you think I say it too much and for that you think it has no meaning
but it does have meaning, it always does
You may never know the meaning of the word because you have never said
those words to anyone, not even me. I sometimes wonder if you ever think
about saying those words. I don't think that you do and you never will
think that
I'm sorry that I don't scream as much as I used to
I'm sorry for feeling sorry
I'm sorry that one day you will kill me and you will finally be sorry
because you will no longer be able to beat me or anyone else ever again
unless you find another person to beat senseless that likes to be beaten,
my type, the type that likes to be beaten is rare and no one will ever
replace me, no matter how many times you will look you will never find
one. The reason why you will never find one like me is because you made me, made me through your beatings and no one will willingly let anyone be beaten by anyone. They have to be taught like you taught me, you are the teacher and I am the student, your willing student. The only willing student you will have. I think I need another lesson only this time, you finish the lesson. Finish it like never before. I have written something and have put it in a safe deposit box with a password on it,
20-15-19-19-25. It has everything that I want you to know, including the things that I won’t say to you. I’m afraid of what you might do, I’m not afraid of you anymore. I no longer shake when you are around me or when I think about you. I no longer feel the Pain as you beat me. I guess this is a sign of the end, the end of my life, the end of everything, including the beatings, the end of me feeling sorry and the start of you feeling sorry. I no longer feel sorry because it is the end and I have waited for this moment, the moment that you kill me, for a very long time. I have always wondered…how will I die? I’ve always known that I am going to die by your hand but not how I will die. Will you throw me across the floor so hard that it cracks my skull or will you let me bleed to death? I hear footsteps, the footsteps of Death, coming to take me to my other home, other hell, the dead hell. I see your face; I see in your face that you are madder than ever before. You raise your hand to inflict some kind of Pain upon me but before you do, I stop you long enough to read your eyes, to see this is the last time that you will ever beat me, you see it in my eyes too, you know this time, I will not resist, will not scream, but will die. I let go and let you strike me as hard as you want for as long as you want. I no longer feel the Pain as you strike me, you know this and you strike harder, hard enough to break bones and yet I feel no Pain nor do I scream. I won’t let you have the satisfaction of seeing me scream in the last moments of my life. It is the end, the end of everything, the Pain, my screaming as you hit me. You have been hitting me for awhile now and it’s a wonder I’m still breathing. In a minute you will throw me across the floor and start kicking me. Once you kick me it will be the end, the end of my Pain, the end of you feeling sorry and the start of you feeling sorry.
I’m sorry that you haven’t killed me yet
I’m sorry it’s taking too long
I’m sorry that you have Pain in your hand
I’m sorry that your foot will experience Pain when you kick me in a few minutes
I’m sorry for all the anguish I caused you
I’m just so sorry
I’m sorry for feeling sorry
You are screaming now, screaming because I’m not going to scream, screaming for both of us.
Your face is as red as the brightest apple on a beautiful tree surrounded by a meadow with everything around it is perfect.
If only you could see your face, you would agree.
I am laughing now, laughing at you, laughing at the Pain, laughing at life
You are screaming louder, louder to drown out my laughing that is so carefree that you can’t stand it, you want to be rid of it, killing me will end it, end it for good.
You realize this and you hit harder, harder than ever before. Finally, the moment has come, you pick me up and you throw me against the wall, hard, hard enough to break ribs and knock the air out of my lungs. It has begun, the ending of my life, the start of you feeling sorry. I fall on my side and you start kicking me, kicking me harder than ever before. I feel my ribs crack on my right side and they start to crack on my other, both hips are broken, my left knee is out of socket, my right wrist is broken, all of my fingers on my left hand are either bleeding or broken. My mouth and nose are bleeding. I am covered in blood, my blood, my life source, it’s pouring out of me. I do not stop the blood as it is pouring out of the cuts and bruises that you have inflicted upon me. Somehow my blood angers you. You kick my skull and I hear a grating sound in my skull and I know you have finally broken my skull. I know the end is near, I can see the blackness trying to envelop me. I am fighting the blackness. You are screaming and I am still laughing in a whisper. I stop laughing and you stop screaming. You know this is the end. You are having too much fun beating me. You know I am about to die, one more hit to the head and I’ll be dead. I start to whisper my final words; the words are caught on the wind and carried away without being heard. One last time I say those words. This time you hear them, my very last words, “I’m sorry.” You start to scream as those words make you angry and you go into a murderous rage, you scream louder and louder, your leg steadily goes back, back as far as it will go. I do nothing and watch the foot swing and it connects to the back of my skull. I look up and the last thing I see is your eyes and I see in your eyes is that you are sorry, sorry for going too far. My eyes begin to close and they will never again see anything ever again. They will never see you beat me anymore; they will never see you feel sorry. They will only see blackness, blackness that will never cease. My heart that has been beating faithfully ever since I came into existence stopped beating and will never beat again. I am dead, I shall never awaken. Come morning, I will still be sleeping, sleeping indefinitely. You are sorry for the first time, the very first time. You kneel down and put me in your lap. Your head rests upon mine and you start to weep. The first time you have ever cried ever since a person you felt close to beat you. You vowed that night when you were finally alone that you would never cry again. Today you broke that vow. Today it was you, the abuser who beat someone who you are close to and now because of that, you are finally sorry for the first time.
Today, I broke my vow, the vow that I made when I was a child after someone I was close to beat me I never cried since. No one made me cry, no matter how close they were to me, I never cried. Today, I cry, I cry because today I am the abuser and I hurt someone close to me, only I didn’t make another person cry, I did much worse, they’ll never be able to cry again because I killed someone and now I remember all of the repressed memories concerning the abuse that I had experienced when I was a child. I am crying for the abuse and I’m crying for you, crying because I went too far. Your face is moist and all of the blood has been washed away. I look at your face and it’s disfigured, it’s not like it used to be a few years ago when we just met. Those days are gone now and they’ll never come back.
I’m sorry
I’m just so sorry
I’m sorry for beating you all these years. It’s just you never told me to stop and I’m not sure that I would have stopped even if you told me to.
I’m sorry, I caused you Pain
I’m sorry for all these long years I did horrible things to you
I’m sorry, no matter how many times I say I’m sorry you’ll never be able to hear those words you have been longing to hear from me for so long. I failed
I’m sorry I failed you
I’m sorry that you’re dead
I’m sorry that you may never be able to breathe another breath because I took your breath away from you and now I realize what I took from you, is not able to be given back
I’m sorry I took your breath away from you
I’m sorry
I’m just so sorry
I shall never abuse anyone else. I promise. How long can I keep that promise? A day, a week, or is it even shorter than that before the urge to release my anger unto someone, my anger never ceases.
Later that night, I go to bed and I go through some of all things that once belonged to a living person that was breathing. I find something that I didn’t know existed, a safe deposit box with some kind of password on it. A piece of scrap paper falls out onto the floor and I bend to pick it up and all there is on it is numbers with dashes scrolled onto the paper and I wonder what their meaning is. A few minutes pass and I figure it out; the numbers are a combination to a deposit box. Inside the box is a letter addressed to The Murderer who Killed Me, and I realize that I am that murderer so the letter is addressed to me. I wonder how she knew that she was going to die before I even came home. The answer is that she didn’t but suspected that this time would be the last time or she wanted me to kill her so that I’ll finally be sorry, both are correct. As I read the letter, I can’t help but weep, weep for the person I killed, weep for all those long years I never felt sorry. I am now sorry, sorry for the person that I once loved is now gone but remains in a memory, a memory that will haunt me to the grave.
TO: THE MURDERER WHO KILLED ME
FROM: YOUR LOVING DEAD WIFE
Today you have found something, something that has been lost ever since you were a child. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. How do you know about my past? It’s quite simple actually, I ran into one of your “friends” that you used to be close to, the only “friend” that you actually trusted. Your friend only told me because I told him that I could make you feel sorry for the very first time. I have done that in a way. I have made you feel sorry, through my death, I have made you sorry and I was and am the only one that was able to make you feel sorry, the only one. Are you proud of what you did? Are you? If you are, you shouldn’t be? No one should be proud of that.
I want you to know, with all of your beatings, I have always loved you. You beat me unceasingly and yet I found a way to still love you. I have always loved you. I don’t think you realized this or not but I used to look forward to the beatings and have come to like them. I would sometimes wonder how I will die but I’ve always known that I’m going to die by your hand. As it turns out, I was right. I was killed by your hand. No one else could have killed me. You’re the only person I would have allowed to kill me, no one else. Consider yourself lucky. Did you also know that every time I was around you; I was shaking, shaking because I was afraid of you. I was scared ever since I first met you. You wonder why I would marry a person who scared me half to death. The answer to your question is that I had lived a sheltered life and you were the first person I have ever feared and I became attached to that fear. I relished in that fear. When we got married, I wasn’t just marrying you, I was also marrying fear. The fear that I want to have every single day while I was around you. I was in love with you and I also was in love with the fear that radiated from you. You might as well say that I was more in love with the fear than I was in love with you. And for that I’m sorry. I shall never again be sorry because I am no longer breathing. When I first met you, you took my breath away and now you have taken it permanently. You took the breath of my life and it can’t be given back even if you tried to give it back. Are you sorry that you have taken my breath away so that I can’t breathe again? Are you? Before you took it away, you were not sorry but now I think you are. I think now after you took my breath (literally) that you are finally sorry. I sometimes hate being right. I was right about you. The end of me feeling sorry and the start of you feeling sorry. I was right about that and I hate that. I shall never be sorry again and you will always be sorry until you meet me again which I highly doubt that you ever will. Maybe one day, you will see me, one day but will that one day may never come. I’m sorry for that. No, I take that back. I’m not sorry anymore because you killed me. MURDERER! You will never be the same and I won’t allow you to be the same. No matter how many times you wash your hands, my blood that you spilled will always be there. Even though you got the appearance of blood off, your hands, the feel of my blood will always be there. Your hands are tainted by the feel of my blood and they will always be tainted. Once tainted, always tainted. Remember that. Soon you won’t be able to touch children’s hands because those hands are pure and have never before been tainted and they never will be unless they become murderers like you and I know they will never abuse or hurt anyone in any way. They have parents that love them and they will never abuse or hurt them in any way. There is a difference between the children and when you were a child. You learned to hate at a younger age than most. Those innocent children have not learned to hate and won’t for awhile yet. They learn to be loved by other people, not hated. You didn’t learn to be loved and that’s why you don’t know how to love and now you don’t know how to show it because you don’t know how to. You will never learn and you will never want to learn. Are you sorry, sorry for anything? If you aren’t, you should be? Are you glad you killed me? If you are glad, you should be ashamed of yourself. Have you cried yet, you should have? I’m not sorry that I have finally made you cry. I’m just not sorry anymore because I’m no longer alive. I shall never be sorry again. You can thank yourself for that. You can thank yourself for a lot of things, things that you haven’t even thought about before. There are things that you will never know, will never allow yourself to know and for that. I’m not sorry. There is one thing that I’m sorry for, never saying all the things that I wanted to tell you while I was alive. Now, I’ve said all the things that I wanted to say to you save two words. I’m sorry
Sincerely,
YOUR LOVING DEAD WIFE
Copyright ©
bresettem
... [
2007-12-24 07:46:44]
(Date/Time posted on
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Re: I'm Sorry
(User Rating: 1 )
by conorshawn on
Monday, 24th December 2007 @ 07:55:14 AM AEST
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im seting here reading this thinking wow very lengthy but very vivid to my soul made me cry.
i loved it |
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Re: I'm Sorry
(User Rating: 1 )
by lost_again on
Monday, 24th December 2007 @ 08:09:42 AM AEST
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A purging of the heart and soul.
It is long but full of emotion, plainly heart wrenching.
LA |
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Re: I'm Sorry
(User Rating: 1 )
by ki on
Tuesday, 25th December 2007 @ 12:50:15 AM AEST
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wow this is long,but the emotion in here is beyond deep..sounds like u been thru a lot!!this is definetly my favorite poem of the day !!very good write!!
ki |
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