::: I'm Sorry :::

I want to ram this pen right through my wrist
I want to have this ink instead of blood
so many words pour forth, some days
I think that I may as well just bleed them
I'm sorry that I couldn't be more perfect
I'm sorry, it feels like all I ever say
I'm sorry that you hurt me
I'm sorry that I'm dying
and I'm sorry for this is how it has to be

with my blood I could tell many stories
as my ink, it would flow easy and quiet
from wrist to page to make my book
my last apology
when I die, it won't be your fault
as I tape my mouth to choose that silence
my organic pen will leave my note
that's all I have to say
don't worry, you won't miss me all that much