insufferable apologizes.

It’s been weeks,
months, even,
since I’ve cried.

One sentence,
just a handful of words,
broke that strain;
I felt my own sorrow rise
like bile in my throat.

In those few insufferable moments
I remember my own foolish moves:
pushing your hand away,
pulling my clothes on
with a refined sense of violence.
Your touch could not wash away your words,
though I felt you reach out and try
as the first cry escaped my lips.

“You’ll become a monster, just like your mom.”

Finally your hands reach out far enough
to took hold of my hips;
you drew me in, close,
close enough that I could almost smell
the apology on your lips.

Despite those hard nights,
those long, dreary days
where I let no tear slip,
tonight I found myself
pushed into your form;
holding onto you
with everything I’ve got.