i just wanted to say sorry,
for kicking the legs on your chair
out from under you
when you were sitting down for dinner,

for holding the pillow down on your face
when you lay in bed to sleep.

i hope you don’t mind my apologizing,
for cutting the cold water in your shower
in the hopes that you might burn

in the hopes that you might turn
around, revive yourself;
grand resurrection inside yourself.

sorry, for thinking that a knife inside your chest
would change anything, for taking it upon myself
to fish my filthy fingers in your ribcage
and make mud pies with your dinner.

that reminds me (i’m so sorry)
for putting poison in your salmon,
though you know i never was a fan of fish,

and after all, i’m sorry
but it’s probably too late for that now.