To my mother and father

I am sorry, mother
I know you mean well
I am sorry, father
I know you’re really trying
I am sorry

For my moods
I am sorry
For my withdrawal
I am sorry
For my grievances
I am sorry
For my wrongness
I am sorry
For my ungratefulness
I am sorry
For my …
I am sorry

You love me wholly…so entirely so
You love me selflessly…and I should learn to do so
You only want me to be happy, without hurting
You cry when I am feeling dreadful, burning, and ice cold

Despite my self-loathing
Despite my self-pity
Despite my self-serving
You love me dearly

I am not selfsame
Things have changed
But the countless things that have remained
Are like a rope tightening
No matter what
Some things aren’t fixable
You can’t change everything
You can’t have what you want whenever you need
Some pain you can’t take away with a gift of healing hands or
brain that finds the way

This self-talk isn’t helping one bit
I’m worsening my situation again

It’s simply out of your hands
For now that is
(Doubt still holds me)
It’s out of my hands
I can’t even see it
Every once in a while…I see glimpses
I hate not knowing
I despise being tested

They poke
They prod
They get not what they need
Not what they’re searching
No one knows thus far
I continue hurting

I am sorry mother, father
I love you both
I am sorry I am for some reason unable to speak it at times
I am trying to be better
It’s just that you can’t hear me
And I don’t like repeating
And screaming “I love you, too”
Always have to say “too”
For some reason that bugs me

I am sorry mother, father
I cost too much money
It’s wrong to blame you
Although it is your genes that made me
Who I am
You can’t help that
You can’t change the past
You can’t choose my ingredients
You can’t pick out the pieces of the puzzle

Don’t touch me
Don’t look at me
I can’t take it
You’re not helping
You’ve yet to discover
You’re trying. This I know.
Such slow progress. Hurting more so.
I’m sorry. Forgive me. Please take me home.

The apologies are never-ending
The guilt is relentless

Why was I made?
Why am I like this?
Why can’t I stop focusing
On finding my purpose
And other questions
That are mostly unanswerable
Why do I do this to myself?
I have not the answer

I am sorry.
I think I mean it.
I want to mean it.
I sure feel it. I feel something.

My apologies

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I haven't figured out how to seperate it into a couple or a few poems yet, but tell me what you think. confusing much? heh.