Apologies Over Dinner

It’s Friday and last night I listened to some awesome poetry, so here’s my favourite piece that I wrote in April.

Apologies Over Dinner

I told you I’m sorry
but you couldn’t hear past my mumbling
my half-chewed words regurgitated to sound like an apology.
I’m not good at admitting fault.
Instead, I’ll tell you how I loved you like a phantom
like the condensation on a glass
like a long song left in the sun so long
the record has warped into a funeral march.
I’ll tell you how my hand ached for yours so much
it was easier to cut it off than deal with the pain.
I’ll tell you how I capsized our apartment to stop it from sinking
under the weight of our mistakes–
it missed you too much.
And then you’ll walk away
wondering why I invited you to dinner in the first place.
And I–
I’ll spit up the rest of my  “I’m so sorry for what I’ve done”
and leave it on the table,
a tip the waiter may have more use for than me.


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