in the eyes of the undeserving

stop. saying sorry is not enough. it will never be enough when you knew i would do anything just for you to face me. i would do anything, i would beg and I would etch your name into my ribs, let the letters fester until they scar, so every breath hurts just enough to remind me of you. i would do it to every inch of my skin with blades so dull i have to do it twice to make it bleed. stop, i'm sorry. i would crawl pathetically and saying prayers all while i'm on my knees and cries my sorry out. stop this, i'm sorry. or would you want to hurt me again and again and again and i would never say stop this time if it meant for you to hold me again tenderly. what do you want me to do? tell me, what should i do now? what should i do with all this grief and embarrassment of not being able to process it even for a day? you know i'd do well to say yes to you. so please tell me how to do this, tell me how to be human for once and feel what i should be feeling. tell me whether i should cry or laugh or angry or despise everyone. tell me what i should do. stop this, make it stop, i'm so sorry. rip my lungs from my chest if that’s what it takes to quiet the screaming in my ribcage. i'll trade air for silence, i'm sorry. please, don't look at me, i can see it in your eyes; you poor thing. you're so miserable. you're so pathetic to the point you're no good even for a glance. people flinch at your presence. now i can hear their whispers, their flinching breaths when i enter a room, the sound of their relief when i leave. my name is the punchline of a joke i don’t want to hear. make it stop, i'm so sorry. i can't handle it. but you have to admit that no one can do it better than me, right? no one would do this better than me. i’d scrape the marrow from my own bones to prove my regret. would that be enough for you now? i said i was sorry. i said i want it to stop. i said i'd tear myself apart if it meant i could be whole in your eyes. i said — oh god, i said so many fucking things, but none of them stopped you from looking at me like i was already dead. do you want me to go over it again and again? i would do much more this time. just stop, let me breathe. the weight of my guilt presses like a boot on my throat; i can’t breathe without choking on your name. stop it, i'm sorry. but it's already been done, it's not like you want to help me to put a stop to it. why would you do that? now it's out of my control. why would you let me do that? i'm already sorry enough, now please put a stop to it. you love me enough to put a stop to it, right? please tell me i'm doing a good thing this time. i'm sorry, i'll stop if that's what you want. i'll do anything. you would help me out, right?

right?

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16 jan ‘25