When Sorry Isn’t Nearly Enough

When Sorry Isn’t Nearly Enough

I held your name too soft to speak,

as if the wind might overhear,

a whisper stitched with all I broke,

and all I didn’t see, or fear.

I watched the hours sink like stones,

too proud to bleed, too slow to bend.

My hands were full of empty words,

and silence dressed up as a friend.

Regret is sharp, and never still.

It turns each memory to glass.

I see you clearer now you’ve gone,

and choke on chances I let pass.

There’s nothing left that sounds sincere,

no magic phrase to make it right.

Your trust was gold, I spent it cheap,

then lost the map back to your light.

I’d tear the sky if you’d forgive.

I’d carry fire, walk through storm,

but all I have are worn-out lines,

and ache that never will transform.

So if you leave, just take the truth.

Don’t let my shadow follow near.

You gave me more than I deserved,

and all I gave you was this tear.