i want to be sorry

for the rusty nail

metaphors

and the sloppy

analogies.

i want to regret

all the poetry

that split us open

like a gaping wound.

i want to feel bad

for writing about you.

i want to feel bad

for letting everybody

witness the aftermath

of you, of us.

but i can't be sorry.

i am not sorry

for doing what

i had to do.

i am not sorry

for fixing the damage

you inflicted upon me.

i am not sorry

for writing about you.

i am just sorry

that i had to.

-c.h.