“I’m sorry”

You are the first words that spill from my lips

You are a toxin disguised

You are the addiction of the anxious and unsure

Our apologies tumble out of our arms

And as we scramble to collect them

We wonder why we apologize

It wasn’t always this way

But now it precedes every greeting, goodbye, and thank you

Because before being me

I apologize

For being

me

And I hate it

These apologies are making me sick

I’m tired of wading through them

Falling out of my pockets like loose change

Spare pennies that no one wants

And still I keep saying it

So I’m sorry

I’m sorry for being sorry

And not being able to do anything about it

~ Quill x

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