Regret
I watched as you laid there,
so fragile and weak.
What could I do?
Holding back the tears
from when I first heard
I'm supposed to remember
all the good times,
but I just remember all the fights.
What did I do wrong?
Is this my punishment
for fighting with you?
I should have listened
instead of just walking off
and slamming the door.
Now I'm here trying
to figure out what to say.
I'm out of words,
barely talking at all.
Slowly, you tell me to send
in another person.
I nod my head,
crack a small sarcastic remark.
I seem so fine,
like it's not really happening.
I tell myself on the ride home
that it isn't my fault,
but it seems like it is.
Walking in the door,
falling on the couch,
wet tears on my face.
They all say that you're going
to be okay,
but will you?