a.mqueen

fifteen years, fifteen lines

She’s sorry that she couldn’t make you feel like a man.

She’s sorry that loving her was a pain.

She’s sorry that she couldn’t kneed the numbers in her head quite like you did.

She’s sorry that she bored you to the point where a street whore was better than a baby.

She’s sorry that being her father was never your favorite job.

She’s sorry that she wasn’t the boy you wanted.

She’s sorry that she could never catch up to you on your morning runs.

She’s sorry that she eats with her fingers.

She’s sorry that she eats at all.

She’s sorry that she was born with matted, curly, ugly hair.

She’s sorry that she wasted your time on those stupid comic books. 

(She’s sorry that she’ll never read another with you again.)

She’s sorry that you spent so much money on her school-

She’s sorry that you spent the same amount of money paying women to love you.

She’s sorry that she was too angry to attend the funeral.