16

You said "sorry"

as if I would be able to rebuild myself with a 

word.

7 years later and still when you apologise for something 

I remember.

I am all at once a trembling mess.

All at once remembering the many things that I 

never said.

And I never will.

You will never know the fear of hearing ghosts

screaming like banshees

only to discover it is your father

hunched over

wailing.

How do I tell you that I prayed for you every night?

That I worried every night?

That sleep was the balm that let me forget you.

That every waking minute I lived in fear of the pain

that you caused me.

And how do I tell you these things
now?

After all this time, how do I tell you that time or 

one word 

is not enough

to rebuild someone you 

ripped apart.

I know you didn't mean to.

If you did, it wouldn't hurt this much.