Worse

by

Katherine Tildes

I’m sorry that I can’t be better,
that I can’t be more whole.
Sorry that I can’t be her,
the one who holds your heart,
the one of your life which you
long to find.
Sorry that I am broken
and seemingly unfixable.
Sorry that I hurt,
and hate,
and loathe.
Sorry that I just can’t be sane
and quiet
and whole.

I’m sorry that life is complicated,
that I make it worse
instead of better.
That it doesn’t seem to stop,
even after the walls collapse
and I am left standing,
naked, alone, hurting.
That I can’t open up enough to let you in.

But even if you could help,
why would you want to.
What desire could bring you to
put yourself out like that,
for someone else?
For me?

I cannot be that special,
that wonderful for
someone like you to help.
You cannot save me,
that is left to myself and my therapist.
You cannot fix me,
though I be broken.
You can only help me,
or hurt me even worse.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at AT THE SCHOOL GATE
by: Paul Curtis
from: Woking, England, UK

To visit all of Katherine Tildes's poems, click HERE

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