I remember the first time I saw her
drop to the floor and crack
and spill,
and I knew I had been lied to.

Sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words can also hurt me. 

And when he said i’m sorry,
and like a panacea
cured the dew in her eyes, i thought
there was a way to fix the soul’s broken bones.
and so i learned to serve
everything in my life with a side of
i’m sorry.  

I don’t want to… i’m sorry. 
I can’t…. i’m sorry. 
I don’t like that…. i’m sorry. 
i’m sorry, but I disagree. 

And in trying so hard
to make sure everything that left
the assembly line of my mouth
was a gentle breeze, in
wrapping people in i’m sorry’s to protect them
in case they fell, i left myself
exposed, and (i’m sorry)
covered in bruises.