Enlightenment

I don't really now how to start...

Words don't normally fail me.

I've harmed the wrong person,

and there's no way to take it back.

Let's see if I can take away some of the pain.

The words

(written for her)

I thought them,

but the words were not mine.

I spoke them,

but the words were not mine.

I orchestrated them,

but the words were not mine.

I wrote them,

but the words were not mine.

I rushed to get them out,

but the words were not mine.

I spat them at you like venom,

but the words were not mine.

They cut you like knives,

but the words were not mine.

You did nothing to deserve them,

but the words were not mine.

I know they came from me,

but... the words... were not mine.

The Lodestone (written for her)

The thing that caused it has been rectified. The deed however remains done. When words fail the poet and nothing can end his suffering for the wrong he has visited, there is no salvation. There is no way out of this toment. It has been bought and paid for through my own selfish pride. I torment myself because I know you would never... and knowing that you would never do it, only it cubes the weight I carry. I would carry this apology to your door on bare feet to make you know it's sincerity, not for my pardon, but to lighten what I have placed on you. I want nothing  more than to burn the words that I loosed upon you and If it were possible I would consume their ashes and dine blissfuly on them if only to bring you an ounce of te joy you gifted to me. I am ashamed to call myself Dom, but I will carry my shame and learn from it, even if the only comfort you ever receive is the possibility of what I say next being true... It will never happen to another.

The Apology

(written for her)

I sit here penitent, reaping that which I have sown.

I haven't the right to ask for forgiveness,

and yet I pray that  the chance is not already blown.

For what I did there is no defense. It was like a car wreck it happened so fast I had no idea what I had done until it was too late... I then sat in shock of my actions. Slowly, it came upon me what I had done, and still I coud not believe. It was me, but it wasn't. I want to lay blame but cannot, for it was myself who allowed it to happen. Every single syllable was aimed at you, an innocent who had nothing to do with any of what was going on.

I am sorry.