apology, noun ; a regretful acknowledgement of an offence or failure.
the word fails to describe a fraction of what i would like to say. i think i might be marginally psychopathic, for you would only notice it as much as you do the ant crawling on the kitchen tabletop or moist cupcake crumbs here and there. scented faint hints push you to suspicion but they aren't confirmed until you see it, hear it, feel it.
i love and hate a being in unison wholeheartedly, and the closer you come the further i go and there's repulsion and loneliness and yearning and missing churned into the mixing bowl all in one. it's plunged into the oven with the outcome of regret and now i know why the grief and detest only ever follows after the action. the aftertaste is bitter, fearful; i must've added in a bottle of vinegar instead of a teaspoon's worth of vanilla essence.
i'd saw off my limbs, scald my tongue and gorge out my eyes if it would aid me in unerring the ingredients but there's only this much time we have on earth to live and it's expired to bake from scratch again after scorching the tins. the attacks come in and out of morning assembly, perpetual panic swarming around me. my own thoughts are eating, swallowing me whole and when you are last seen at eight thirty-three a.m. there's a tinge of relief that you haven't gotten food poisoning yet. i would like to rescue you but first i have to save myself.
you are the flour foundational to the screwed up, spine breaking batter and there's so much to say but my remorse is blended with triumph at times. like when a cookie is stale but you eat it anyway. there's sure to be a screw loose or a twisted wire somewhere. this abyss is far too dangerous and i'm in too deep.
peer into the oven. the top is burnt and charcoal-ed. the insides are gooey and uncooked.
i'm sorry.
( i can't afford
to lose you or
anybody else
again )
