Slapped the man’s face, then slapped it again,
broke the plate, broke the glass, pushed the cat
from the couch with my feet. Let the baby
cry too long, then shook him,
let the man walk, let the girl down,
wouldn’t talk, then talked too long,
lied when there was no need
and stole what others had, and never
told the secret that kept me apart from them.
Years holding on to a rope
that wasn’t there, always sorry
righteous and wrong. Who would
follow that young woman down the narrow hallway?
Who would call her name until she turns?What I Did Wrong, Marie Howe
Tag: regret
if only I could write as well as I have regretted how poorly I have loved
from the angel in the dream of our hangover – aphorisms by mark leidner (via liliesofpur-i-ty)
Little Bristling Soul 