How quick the good turns to bad, I am a fool for letting my head wrestle my mouth away from my heart. It’s there, within the confines of my ribcage, that I feel this sound apology beating and swelling. It wants to tell you it’s sorry but it can’t, because it’s held down by this over-rationalizing thing that has my regrets tightly sealed within.
I love you; I still don’t know how to, but one day I will show you the right way, and I will apologize for all these foolhardy inferences and fears.
