I tried my hardest
to make you feel
something, anything.

But in the end,
Out of all the things
I made you feel
You only remembered the bad things.

Like the time I
made you cry
when you peeled off my pants
after I had crawled into your bed
and you saw all the
blood and slices in my skin.

You remembered the time
I made you yell so loud
that the neighbors came up
from downstairs to check up on you
because you found out I was smoking
because my cigarettes fell out
of my sweatshirt pocket.

Or the time I
passed out on your bed
shaking and sweating and barely breathing.

You were scared,
I could feel it, sense it.
I tried to scream apologies at you
but you couldn’t hear
over the chattering of my teeth.

Like the time you couldn’t
look at me, my face,
for a day because I
made myself throw up
that meal you bought
special, just for me.

I screamed apologies,
I tried to breathe them
into your lungs,
but it turns out
I was just drowning you
instead.

I’m sorry.

But you forgot the good
things that I made you feel.

Like when you spent an
entire day with our friends
at the mall, searching for
the perfect valentines day present.
And when you finally found it
you couldn’t keep that
stupid grin off your face
until you handed it to me.

It was a stuffed rabbit
I slept with it every night.
Even after we broke up.
The first time
and the second time.
I didn’t stop sleeping
with that bunny
until I had found someone else.

Or the time we went
to that concert
and we sang and shouted
our favorite song
at each other and
with the crowd all around us.
That was also the
weekend that we lost
our virginity to each other.

You said that virginity wasn’t
that big of a deal.
But i could tell that
it meant a lot more
to you than you let on.
That’s okay,
it meant a lot
to me too.

But you don’t remember
all of those things.
You only remember
the hurt that I
never meant to
inflict on you.