Four miles

does not seem very far, 

does not sound very far,

even in a city like Los Angeles.

Especially at three in the morning,

when you can safely assume

traffic will be light;

and even on a bicycle - 

     I was in pretty good shape - 

I figured I could be to your place

in fifteen, twenty minutes tops

and told you so over the phone,

telling you to just hold on, 

just wait fifteen minutes and I would

be there and we could talk it out, 

that I would stay with you until the morning

and then we could go get coffee in

Santa Monica and I would skip work

and spend the day with you, so just

hold on, don't do anything you will

regret.

I love you like a brother, I told you,

and just hang on until I get there,

goddammit. But no matter how hard

I rode, and how many cars there actually were

out at three-fifteen a.m. and how many

nearly ran me over, it turns out that

four miles is exactly the distance

from before to after,

from the possible to the irreversible,

from one side of the world

     to the other. 

From one broken heart to two.

I'm sorry I was never good enough for you,

that try as I might, I could never be the me

that you wanted.

I'm sorry I was never pretty enough,

never smart enough,

never talented enough,

never sexy enough.

I'm sorry you felt like you had to

beat "the dog shit" out of me

on a weekly basis.

I'm sorry your brains are

  now

    splattered

      upon

        the

          floor.

Roses on your breast

dripping crimson tears of shame

thorns apologize.

* * * *

I'm sorry 

Thank you

Two phrases,  

I learned from you

Two phrases 

no one forced me to say

Except you

You pulled me down 

from my pedestal 

Where I lived like a part of the celestial 

Taught me how to be thankful in every single thing I have

Most importantly you taught me be humble.  

To admit my mistakes

My shortcomings. 

You broke my pride

One phrase is easier to utter 

The other one is the hardest 

It tastes bitter on my tongue

So this piece though you may never see 

Here's my series of 

My

I'm sorry and 

My thank you

I'm sorry 

For the time you waited for me and I was late

Thank you 

For smiling at me when I finally arrived

I'm sorry 

for not calling you when I'd be late

Thank you

For not asking why 

I'm sorry 

For being childish sometimes 

Thank you

For teaching me how to be a child

I'm sorry 

For losing my temper from time to time 

Thank you 

For teaching me how to control it.

I'm sorry

I allowed the line between us to be crossed

Thank you

For not berating me 

I'm sorry

I shouldn't done it

I'm sorry 

For not answering that Monday morning call

I'm sorry

I did not stopped you from chasing your dreams even when you begged me to. 

I'm sorry

for pushing you away from me and towards your dream.

I'm sorry 

For your recklessness and hypocrisy that broke us.

For the happy memories 

no I'm not sorry

I'm sorry 

Even our friendship couldn't be restored anymore 

For the sound of each others muffled sobs  

That silent night over the phone

I'm sorry it would probably stored in our memories

I'm sorry

I couldn't look into your eyes anymore. 

I'm sorry 

That our feelings did not changed after everything 

I'm sorry

for the way you look at me as if you're asking me to stay and not walk away

I'm sorry

for walking away when all I want is to run to you and hug you close

I can't hurt my self anymore

I can see what we both want when we're together 

I'm sorry 

That couldn't be anymore.  

I'm sorry

I am sorry that you are alive.

We both know that you deserve to die.

You should kill yourself, only you would fuck that up too. You would miss just enough to end up a vegetable. Hooked up to a machine, sucking away all of our savings, on life support. The same way you sucked the life out of me . Drained me of my will to live, as I have had to support you all of these years. You are a soul sucking slug. A parasite. A festering boil on the ass of humanity.

I am sorry you are not dead.

You deserve to be dead.

I would love to do that for you.

If it wouldn't cost me my life and my soul, trust me, you would be dead. Beaten in the head with an axe. Brain matter and blood pooling around you, soaking into the ground, as you lay in the yard. Your dead eyes watching as I dig the hole to bury you.

No wait!

You are not worth that much effort.

Instead I would roll your lifeless, worthless, could never make me cum, lying, ugly body into the sleeping bag from your closet. The one you needed to take the kids camping. It's still new in the bag. Oh ! I am so glad I bought it for you. I will Line the trunk with plastic garbage bags, you know that giant box of leaf bags you bought but never raked up one lousy leaf? Well now they will finally get used. It may be hard to get you in the trunk , but Darling, I will do it just for you.

I know a place for you to "nap"snuggled in your new waterproof sleeping bag, the best most expensive one made.

A nice quiet spot, except when the trains go by every 15 minutes. I will drag your useless, always was useless even when you were breathing, body out there. As soon as one train is gone I will loving, tenderly throw your carcass on the tracks, your head with brain oozing out, can us the rail for a pillow.

I will walk away giggling and listen to the whistle of the train from the car wash.

I am so sorry that this is only a fantasy.

I am sorry you are not dead!

How many times did you make me say those words?

How many times did you stop to think what they meant?

How many times did you wish to utter them?

How many times did you throttle me with love, yet made me feel pain in every way?

How many times must I say "I'm sorry" for you to know that I'm not?

I'm sorry my love wasn't strong enough to make the monsters go away.

I'm sorry I made poor life choices that put you in harms way.

I tried to be as good a mother as I possibly could with how I knew.

I thought I could do it better than anyone else could because I loved you.

As I've been reminded time and again I'm not Mother of the year material.

Just because I was too young is no excuse.

I'm sorry.

No excuses.