I’m really really sorry,

For saying that I am.

And all the things,

- both big and small -

That have put me

Where I am.

My mind plays tricks

with me you see

And no,

That’s not an excuse.

It knocks on my door

and tells me

You’re wrong.

And the right

is to Hate.

It won’t let me see

Sometimes

And covers

The windows to the soul.

It makes me apologise

Blindly

For taking up

Too much Space.

But, back to you

Oh, God,

I’m Sorry

And for saying it again.

This has hit a nerve

It has made me

scared

and has made me

Think

About all of the things

I’m sorry for;

For hurting people

Close to me

and paining my family

too.

For letting those who

have loved me the most

down.

And sometimes it’s to

Combat

and sometimes it’s to

Hurt

and sometimes it’s to

Assault

Not just my Ego

but that part of me

That’s Me.

That little part,

That I know is in there

because people

with hearts if gold

can see her.

They stick around

and celebrate her

her life,

her love.

I’ll never apologise for that part.

That brings joy

to Peoples eyes.

She’s there — I Know.

Trapped inside.

Taking up no space,

Threading

Very Softly.

She combats fear

and my ego

and others

and before this

poem’s even finished

I want to say

I’m sorry.

But this poem

was written

by that little shred

of me

Who still feels that love.

The part that’s

not broken

but

Is sorry

and says it enough.

Her voice

can be heard

through this badly

Written verse.

But she is

I

and I is

She

And I’m

Not Sorry

for That.

Hello, my name is Emma and I like drawing, laughing and telling stories.

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