2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 3

For today’s prompt, there are actually two options, because it’s Tuesday, which means a “Two for Tuesday” prompt. They are:

  • Write an apology poem, or…
  • Write an unapologetic poem.

Your choice. You can be sorry–or not. Or write about someone who is sorry–or not.

Here’s my attempt:

“I Am Really Sorry”

I didn’t return your call. I told you
that I did. The world is against you
(it really is). Some people make you feel
unwanted every day. When I join
them. It’s taken me this long to accept
you without turning away from you. That
it’s very likely I’ll do it again.


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580 thoughts on “2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 3

  1. kingac

    Sorry No Vacancy

    Dust quietly gathers
    in laden pools;
    trying to crawl –
    filling every crevice
    with unknown certainty.

    It’s crowded in here,
    my thoughts and I.
    Quite a bombastic
    claustrophobic party.
    I-Pod volume set to max.

    -John Pupo

  2. JRSimmang

    You will reach an age
    where your bones will not bend,
    your breath will not be easy,
    and your sight will disappear along the horizon.
    Your fingers will tremble, crooked and broken,
    your hair, white with wisdom, will cease upon your pate.
    But you cannot see that now.
    Your life to be lived,
    is lived right now.
    Age, you think,
    strikes the unfortunate.
    Age, you think,
    smothers the vulnerable.
    Age, you think,
    holds no treasures except for the aged.
    You sit, knees a bob,
    finger in phone,
    as the world whirs away a silent reproach.
    As you pander to the premature,
    scintillating adolescence,
    you will witness a wrinkle,
    a fold in your fabric,
    and you too will behold yourself with the same
    apologies as I do now.
    You cannot run.
    You should not run.
    Become old and grey,
    and with it become whole.

  3. Jolanta.Stephens

    I am sorry
    That you’re not sorry
    For the veil or red
    You can’t see through
    And I am sorry
    That you’re not sorry
    for the words you hurtle
    At us so carelessly
    I am sorry
    That you’re not sorry
    About the damage
    That has been left
    For someone else
    To sweep up
    Behind you

  4. Miss R.

    To the Forgotten Characters of Abandoned Stories

    I’m sorry that I never quite finished
    Coloring in your souls.
    To be honest, I barely completed the outline
    Before my attention began to waver.
    I guess I should be thankful
    That you remained so flat,
    Because you stick to the page
    And cannot haunt me in my sleep.
    I do miss you, a little,
    But I cannot promise to rescue you
    From your static page-three entrance.
    The prince was supposed to do that,
    But I didn’t know his name.
    He never lived to ride across the pages,
    And slowly flickered away
    In the annals of my mind.
    I’m sorry I left you alone,
    But you see,
    There was this other story . . .

  5. emmajordan

    I’m not sorry
    even though I yelled at you
    in a loud and angry voice.
    You shouldn’t have done that
    it was mean
    it made me sad.
    I cleaned ketchup from
    walls and floor
    bedspread and pillows.
    Erased bad words
    with my sponge.
    Go stand in the corner
    think about what you’ve done
    till you apologise and mean it, daddy.

  6. cajun75


    Wishy, washy back and forth
    Is it yes or is it no?
    Hard to decide
    Yet I must choose
    He wants an answer now.

    I love him yes
    I love him no
    I must decide
    So say “I’m sorry”
    And turn and go.

  7. Caren


    You may have noticed, maybe not;
    I’ve been distracted, lost in thought.
    No, that’s not right, ’cause let’s be frank,
    When I try and think, the page is blank.
    I’ve been going in circles, running in place,
    And frequently, I’ve been lost in space.
    You see, there’s something I can’t find:
    I’m sorry to say, but I’ve lost my mind.

    Caren E. Salas

  8. po


    I am sorry
    I ever doubted

    We all know
    that men are
    perfect and only
    improve with age.

    But the fact
    remains once
    in awhile
    I need you
    to listen.

  9. Katrin

    I am really sorry
    you can’t apologize

    I’ve heard you say the word
    always followed by
    Comma But, which we both
    know is just the usual false-front
    along Main Street

    To apologize requires a very simple,
    but nearly impossible action: an opening
    of the chest cavity to reveal
    the beating heart and its
    proximity to the spleen

    How we must, in remorse,
    simply acknowledge we are humans, not
    gods, who only accept apologies

    When you can’t, that self-
    righteous bramble must irritate inside,
    as does the heaviness you give

    I wish I didn’t need to want one—
    an Apology arriving in a glittering
    carriage, accompanied by a strings’
    tremolo’d crescendo into the major
    key of Sunrise

    I’m so sorry
    you can’t.

  10. erinne

    i saw a man pushing
    a cart today
    full of marshmallow cereal
    and applesauce
    and a dozen red roses
    laying over some lollipops.
    a charming smile
    with kind eyes.
    the kind that are
    determined to
    find her favorite
    frozen meal
    but there’s so many
    to choose from-
    they all look the same.
    the little girl in tow shouts
    “daddy, daddy i think it’s this one”
    he cant say no-
    into the cart it goes.
    he looks up and
    catches me off guard.
    i quickly glue my eyes
    to the french fry freezer.
    they pass by hand-in-hand.
    for a split second,
    i want to pull out my phone.
    i want to tell him that
    he’s missed everything
    and how dare he …
    but i look down at her,
    smiling, as she covers
    herself with groceries for two.
    deep down i don’t care
    if he’s sorry
    or not
    because, she and I,
    we’ve got each other.

  11. carolecole66

    Phone Call

    I know I should have returned your call
    but somehow, the kitchen floor
    demanded that I mop it first; and then
    the cat needed to be fed, the litter cleaned.
    I picked up the phone once to call you back
    but got off track by laundry, lunch, smudges
    on the sliding doors. Holding the phone I stepped
    outside to watch three monarch butterflies
    tremble on the edge of the fountain next
    to the patio. And so, filled with Buddha bliss
    I went inside to fix some tea, leaving
    the phone outside in a sudden storm. It’s
    still on the garden bench while I sit dry inside,
    gazing through the rain-swept glass, sending you
    the love I fail to speak.

  12. carolecole66

    Phone Call

    I know I should have returned your call
    but somehow, the kitchen floor
    demanded that I mop it first; and then
    the cat needed to be fed, the litter cleaned.
    I picked up the phone once to call you back
    but got off track by laundry, lunch, smudges
    on the sliding doors. Holding the phone I stepped
    outside to watch three monarch butterflies
    tremble on the edge of the fountain next
    to the patio. And so, filled with Buddha bliss
    I went inside to fix some tea, leaving
    the phone outside in a sudden storm. It’s
    still on the garden bench while I sit dry inside,
    gazing through the rain-swept glass, sending you
    the love I fail to speak.

  13. Jannelee


    Should I say I am I sorry
    I suppose
    You were almost right
    when you said I was wrong
    But how wrong was I
    or was I wrong at all
    The things you said were not quite right
    The things I said were almost right
    Just how right was I
    or was I right at all
    Who was right and who was wrong
    Or were either of us
    right or wrong at all
    Should I suppose I’m to blame
    Or did you cause it all
    So am I sorry
    Now I’m not sure at all

  14. shann

    had trouble signing on- seems to be okay today

    A Plate on a Stick

    In constant rotation, it has one job-
    don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall
    dependent on someone else’s skill,
    always ready to take the blame
    when it crashes, the plate endures
    blessed by the certain assurance
    it will be caught whole in the end.
    don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall
    The rhythmic chant defines:
    the spinners’s hands, sticks, plates
    in symbiotic motion, unconcerned
    with the inevitable pull of gravity,
    the shudder growing to a wobble,
    don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall
    but everything does eventually.

    Should I have locked the door,
    begged you stay? Caught up
    in the spectacle, I kept spinning,
    thinking you would always be
    there to catch me when I fell.

  15. gtabasso

    What You Took, What I Gave

    I have said I am sorry
    enough times to make me ache,
    gain weight, make my friends hate me,
    but there has been nothing from you
    but asking for more
    because I taught you to take.
    Here, an insufficient list
    of what is the same:

    a horse, a home
    savings account for your son
    how to parent him
    a camping trip
    Asian food, dinner and drinks
    places you’ll never be
    money, a license, a car
    a divorce, court costs and fines
    warrants, an attorney
    respect, budget
    Xmas and birthday gifts
    a place to belong
    books and movies
    a film fest
    Easter eggs
    St. Patty’s Day
    multiple orgasms
    a job
    someone who misses you
    listens to you
    Mithrac temples & Groucho Marx
    Joseph Campbell
    songs in the shower

    Take care of yourself and remind me,
    what do I owe you, again?

  16. Christod

    The Lake Boy.

    There’s a boy across the lake who
    wears me as a regret sewn into
    the button hole of a jacket bought
    by a new love

    but I did not hand him the thread
    when he handed me my coat,

    so I bent his sorry into the first
    boat out of his town, with only
    a stitch unpicker held in my hand.

  17. Yolee


    I watched a mom chastise her daughter for crayoning green mean words
    on the chapel wall. Displeasure grew in that mom’s voice like a siren
    on an emergency vehicle closing in on its destination.
    “I can’t believe..you know better” The 8ish year old girl released
    impoverished tears that seem to come as a plea bargain rather than regret .
    Apologies spilled from the mom’s mouth to the Bishop as her tone switched
    gears to a low rumbling vehicle at a red light.

    In the stupor of my growing years I stomped on advice crushing the plant life
    you carefully grew and pruned. Your heart received troubling messages from my
    teenage mouth that must have been like unsolicited mail.

    You probably don’t remember all the folly, dim-witted, hurtful things.
    But what did they do to that beautiful heart of yours? Did they stay
    like uninvited houseguests with bad habits, foul breath and no purpose ?

    I apologize for things that have been vacuumed in the sill of memory,
    and take back everything that made you feel as if the garden would never bloom.
    I regret tears I caused that were like acid streaming down your heart.
    Please forgive my lack of compassion, disdain for authority, for writing
    unthinkable words on the wall where you projected good things for me.

    I love you.

  18. HannaAnna

    The All Important Shirt

    I’m supposed to be sorry for forgetting to wash your shirt while you were at work today?
    Well consider this:
    I scrubbed the toilet and bathtub you use everyday.
    I cleaned, swept, mopped, and vacuumed.
    I made lunches, did dishes, and I’m trying to get dinner on the table for you right now.
    I’ve taken the kids to soccer practice, done the grocery shopping, and searched for half an hour for Milly’s lost toy.
    I paid the bills and took the baby to the doctor.
    I’ve changed diapers and listened to endless crying all… day… long.
    Over the last week I’ve spent endless hours helping with homework assignments.
    I haven’t stopped to read a book or take a nap in months,
    but you kick up your feet and watch TV everyday when you get home from work…
    nothing to worry about since I take care of it all.
    But okay, I’m sorry I forgot about your all important shirt.
    It will be on the top of my priority list from now on.

  19. SylviaE

    September 16, 1975. Why?

    It’s hard not to hate myself for getting hooked to you
    I’m not sorry I had your kids (why do mothers do that? no matter what hell they’re usually happy to have the kids)
    I am sorry you are their father and you should be sorry for that
    Trading them so easily for strangers
    Only assholes use and abuse their families
    You are as dangerous as a predator to prey. sorry to the new sufferer

    I carried the weight in so many more ways than I was able
    All my joints wore down to the point I couldn’t live without regret, pain or apology

    You may think I am bitter and blaming but who’s to say?
    Yes. I could fault you forever.
    And yet, there comes a time to simply say sorry
    to myself,
    and move on.

  20. JoBella

    In memory of Williams Carlos Williams

    She had our Barbies in her hands, held dangerously above her pool
    mine accidently went in the water
    she said “Sorry”
    I knew she said “not”

    That other time we fought
    I bit her
    because she ripped my dress
    I had to go next door to say “sorry”, but I wasn’t
    all the while she sat smug in her little chair
    in her pink bedroom
    in front of her TV

    Who has a TV in her bedroom
    in 1964?
    she did
    who calls their child Star?
    we called her Baby Huey
    behind her back

  21. Michaela

    by Michaela Vanden Bosch

    His eyes are fire
    Shooting sparks into my soul
    His voice a syringe
    Drawing poison from the vial
    And plunging it into my veins

    My being is dying
    It’s a slow and painful fade
    Lasting long eons
    Yet taking only seconds
    Is this what an apology does?

    He is breaking me
    This apology is crushing me
    Not an apology at all
    He is hating me
    With his unapology

    Making my resolve
    I won’t come down any more
    I am stopping at this point
    Your unapologetic words
    Have produced in me this unapolgy

    I unapologize for my kindness
    I unapologize for every apology
    I unapologize for saying I’m sorry
    You don’t deserve me
    Just this unapology

  22. Jaywig

    Day 3 – an apology or not

    I’m sorry but you’re not welcome
    you in your black shiny suit
    strutting and scratching
    as if you own this country.

    Interloper, of complicated yet
    pleasant song, alarmist
    clucking at cats, I fall for it –
    until you throw mulch across

    my pebbled paths, leave it
    for someone -me- to restore.
    I prefer rosellas and wrens
    the dashing honeyeater –

    vibrant colours, tree-top high
    fliers, telling me stories.
    You bustle about, making a mess.
    I’ve had enough: bye bye


  23. drwasy

    16 DAYS

    If I could peel away time
    each second a papery layer
    I would go back to the moment
    sixteen days ago when you
    were settled into the hospital bed
    white sheeted, stuffed kitty-corner
    in the downstairs spare room
    and the hospice nurse
    showed me how to peel plastic
    from patches and adhere them
    to your neck, shoulder, back
    and taught me how to crush
    pills fine as ash
    and dissolve the dust
    in the barest amount of water
    enough to flow down the tube
    that once fed your stomach
    I would travel back to that afternoon
    the sun in hiding
    the room walls glow mournful yellow
    and listen more carefully
    as nurse explains how much to give,
    how often, and I would decide
    then to double both,
    as I promised I would

    Peace, LindaS-W

  24. Arike


    crack in the pavement
    hole in the tree
    stalk without flower
    shambling walk to a

    wounded animal
    alcohol like blood
    in your veins on your clothes
    a vapour over you
    attracting predators

    no wallet no salary no food
    im sorry anna no i cant take this
    no wife no kids no home

  25. bclay


    You have until tomorrow
    to gather all your things here,
    clean out your desk and cabinets
    and turn in your current work and keys.

    I apologize that it came to this
    but you were given ample warning,
    everyone follows the rules around here
    except you, do you have any regrets now?

  26. Tanjamaltija

    I am not sorry
    For what I have become
    And you must not be sorry either
    For you have moulded me into what I am today
    From the shattered pieces
    Of whom you destroyed yesterday.
    I hope you are proud of me.
    I know I am!

  27. dextrousdigits

    Mirror Mirror
    It was a luxurious hot shower
    leaving my body soft and clean
    scented with lavendar
    the warm bath towel wrapped around my trunk
    I stand in front of the full length mirror.

    Noticed the little bald spot
    in my otherwise full left eyebrow
    then the crooked right clavicle
    and my eyes wander down
    past full breasts, belly button
    below the towel
    to the white line inside my left knee
    I’d forgotten all about that line.

    I unwrap the towel and see
    my bi-level right buttocks which
    looks a bit like a hump back camel
    and the surgical scar across my lower belly
    once measured at one & 7/8 inches
    bellow the belly button and 4 inches long
    and the missing left outer labia
    a bit lower down.

    None of these scars make me cringe,
    none embarrass me,
    I have no apologies or regrets
    each a badge of honor that says
    I have lived a full life.
    I have made mistakes,
    I have learned lessons
    and said yes, yes, yes
    much more than no.

  28. thebearpaw

    Dear Mr. Man!

    I’m sorry for the
    things you say that
    make you feel so proud
    the things that make you
    feel so big and that make
    you loud.
    I’m sorry for your
    knee-jerk ways that
    make you feel so strong
    the ways that make you
    think so little and not of
    your self-deluded throng.
    I’m sorry for your
    lack of wit that
    when push comes to shove
    The ways you don’t
    know which hole you use
    the one below
    or above.

  29. MeenaRose

    Here is my attempt: http://meenarose.wordpress.com/2012/04/03/2012-april-pad-challenge-day-3/

    Now I Remember
    By: Meena Rose

    Dear Self,
    I would like to extend
    This apology to you!
    Wait, should that be me instead?

    Sorry, I got side tracked
    On semantics again. Where
    Was I? Oh yes, apologizing!

    I am sorry I ignored you,
    I am sorry I neglected you,
    I am sorry I lost respect for you,
    I am sorry I doubted you,
    I am sorry I stopped believing in you!

    As if these crimes were
    Not bad enough,
    I am really sorry
    For forgetting you!

  30. Lynn Burton

    I’m Not Really Sorry

    Blurry eyed, word weary,
    I emerge from the dark corners
    and splintered memories of my mind.
    I should probably apologize
    for the moodiness and
    down right lack of attention,
    but I must get back to work.
    These poems won’t write themselves.

  31. donnellyk


    The stitch marks alongside the thickened scar
    Are there to remind me of what a monster you
    I toppled head over heels for you and ended
    In a heap at the bottom of the stairs, broken,

    Bulging veins in your forehead, raging,
    tyrant tactics no longer
    but me, now swaddled in self loathing, self hate

    Are you sorry to know you snuffed out my spirit?
    Will your pride keep the walls up so you aren’t able to hear it?

    I’d be sorry for the years that I spent as a victim
    If only I could find the best way to convict him.

  32. Uma


    The life of my lord will be bound securely in the bundle of the living by the LORD your God, but the lives of your enemies he will hurl away as from the pocket of a sling.” 1 Samuel 25: 29

    He saw the smoke curl out of the chimney,
    aroma of spices in food got carried in the breeze –
    preparation of a sumptuous meal he was turned
    away from. Lamb curried in sauce – he counted the sheep
    near the fence, could tell the one in the cooking bowl.

    He sat on the rock beside a lizard with beaded eyes,
    the even breathing of the reptile kept his anger down. After all
    he had been like wall of the town, oversaw the cattle graze,
    counted the tattoos of brown sheep on arid pasture land
    like tracking eye floaters that swam into his vision.

    He squinted at the woman bobbing like ball on water,
    intense midday sun cut her up into slats of light.
    The large skirt ballooned into two balls as she straddled
    a donkey, a train of servants carried baskets of bread,
    pressed fig cake, cooked meat, and wine to wash the food.

    Hair blew on her face flushed like ripe peach, her shirt
    was smudged with coal dust from kebab roasted on fire:
    hours of labour spent to appease him. She implored
    for his temperance, let the Lord deal with enemies. Did she
    will her husband’s death, see herself the queen of Israel?

  33. StephanieRosieG

    patterns pulled from searching email for the word “sorry”

    Sorry I didn’t return it before
    Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk last night
    Sorry I’ve been lousy about communicating
    Sorry about the
    Sorry I’ve been terrible about responding
    Sorry to hear the chaos has continued
    Sorry I’ve been a stranger
    Sorry I missed your call
    Sorry I’m so last minute about this
    Sorry that you’re feeling dissatisfied
    Sorry you’re crabby
    Sorry I had you worried
    Sorry about the space-cadet moment
    Sorry I didn’t get back to you
    No, really. I’m sorry.

  34. cam45237

    The Mokume Blade

    What can I do to prove my abject sorrow?
    Bare my throat?
    My breast?
    My belly?
    To forged and folded steel
    Let it slide past skin and into viscera?
    With only a whisper and a soft rip?

    Must I wield the knife myself?
    Must my own hand scar my face?
    Or carve an X across my heart?
    Or spill the blood that drains from wrists and splashes through my palms?

    I know that tears are not enough
    That words are not enough
    Acts of contrition, flagellation, prayers and pleas and whimpers will
    Not reverse, repair, reanimate, reclaim, rebuild
    Nor yet prise from your lips
    A single sentence.

    How can I pursue my absolution?
    When you withhold hope
    Hold back your hand
    Step back beyond my reach?

    And how will you find your own forgiveness
    For the damage you have done
    To me?

  35. Akua

    TV Advice

    I didn’t leave
    i let you go.
    Dr. Phil did not yet exist
    as the one to tell me so
    nor did Judge Judy
    each day i watch others
    break and make mistakes
    on version of you
    and at last, I’m glad
    you’re long past, gone.

  36. kenia_cris

    Late, but not least, here is my piece:

    I look at people around me
    and wonder how I’m going to hurt them,
    how they’re going to hurt me,


    Who will really mean it.

  37. Benjamin Thomas

    Birds of a Different Song

    You know, I’m really sorry things never
    materialized when we were together
    I guess mere attraction doesn’t
    mean love after all
    And if we were ever “love birds”
    We never took flight
    Rather our wings were clipped
    Scratch, claw, fight
    And there was no song between us
    Just birds of a foreign feather
    My fickleness, your weather
    My paycheck, your pleasure
    My macho tendency, your insecurities
    My vindication, your javelins
    My containment, your unravelings
    We were never meant to be
    Separated, divorced
    And now we’re three
    I hope you find
    that love song
    in the bird
    you so

  38. taylor graham


    He’s left bits of old sock scattered around,
    and tracked dead oak leaves over the carpet.
    Now he’s asleep snoring in front of the TV.
    What do you expect, apologies? He’s a dog.
    If you’re angry, of course he’s sorry.
    He loves you even when you say “scram!”
    Just look at those big brown puppy eyes
    and try to tell him you don’t love him back.

  39. seingraham

    Too Late Too Little

    No matter how much I go over this
    How I try to reword and rephrase
    There is just no way I can articulate
    Adequately my sorrow to you
    In any meaningful way and I know
    You get that, you understand
    And probably don’t even want
    To hear it anymore, or maybe
    You do – after awhile – and let’s
    Face it, it’s been a long, long while
    Hasn’t it, my darling – at least
    This time – it’s been a long time

    But then, now – it’s been a long
    Spell in the dark again … and that
    was something I didn’t expect
    Maybe that’s why it’s taken me
    such an extended period of
    indecision disguised as the usual
    Bout of procrastination
    To even try address this at all
    You know? You have to know
    How desperately sorry I am
    At least I hope you do …


    That for Which I Refuse to Be Sorry

    She’s pretty savvy my therapist
    And after I leave her office
    I am braver than usual, buoyed
    By her advice and kind words

    She makes sense when she tells
    Me the science of my disorder
    and compares it to other types
    Of illnesses with more physical

    Components – making me believe
    I am more than the sum of my craziness
    My DNA/RNA genetic makeup
    That there is nothing about me

    For which I need to feel apologetic
    No matter what outrageous behaviour
    May have led me to seek her advice
    This time, her wise counsel, her absolution.


  40. Kendall A. Bell

    No apologies

    The little presents you gave
    the magic eight ball,
    the framed movie poster of
    Pulp Fiction, all have found
    their way to a pile of
    decomposing trash.

    The cd’s I pretended to like –
    the ones you made for me,
    will never spin and spin in
    the mini stereo on my book shelf
    ever again.

    I’ve donated every shirt you’ve
    given me to Goodwill.

    I’ve purposely over-fed your fish.

    I used your toothbrush to clean the
    hair dye stains out of the tub.

    I had your mail forwarded to a
    random address I found in the phone book.

  41. Sheryl


    Her neighbor supervised many workers.
    With her earnings she remodeled her home.
    Her confidence grew as she worked.
    It was what responsible adults did, you know.

    She simply supervised her kids
    as they learned the basics of life.
    Her confidence grew as they grew.
    For her “irresponsibility” she did not apologize.

    They “knew” everyone’s truth
    was to be respected and tolerated.
    She knew Jesus—the Way, the Truth, the Life.
    For that she would not apologize.

    Sheryl Kay Oder

  42. Walt Wojtanik


    The naughty list gets longer,
    the nice list…not so much.
    It’s early, and I haven’t time
    for this misbehaving as such.

    I know you’re trying harder
    than you’ve ever tried before,
    but at this pace you’ll lose all face
    because I know the score.

    So don’t tell me that you’re sorry,
    your sincerity’s in doubt,
    and it won’t feed the reindeer,
    for it carries little clout.

    You must get on my good side
    to champion your cause.
    And don’t think twice; you best be nice
    because I am Santa Claus.

  43. Benjamin Thomas

    Another Route

    I’ll be damned if I apologize
    In this lifetime or in the next
    By phone, in person, with rose or text

    By golly who do you think I am?
    I don’t do “I’m sorry” green eggs and ham
    Like some mindless marble or spineless brute
    Ain’t seekin’ forgiveness, got another route
    I’ve jumped that plane in full gear, parachute
    And sure as hell ain’t losin’ no sleep
    Over you…

  44. Marcia Gaye


    To quote Tevye:
    When you spit into the air
    it falls in your face.
    This apology
    like so much mucous and phlegm
    dangles from my lips
    where it won’t shake loose.


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