i’m sorry i couldn’t get back up
and finish the fight
i’m sorry i didn’t tell you
that i loved you
i’m sorry i couldn’t keep my promise
to be there forever
i’m sorry i didn’t see you smile
one last time
i’m sorry i couldn’t give you the stars
and the moon
i’m sorry i didn’t do more
while i was here
i’m sorry i couldn’t block out
the darkness in my soul
but mostly,
i’m sorry i didn’t say goodbye
Tag: sadness
⌛
rain plummets
as the storm passes overhead,
painting the canvas beneath.
a clearing in the clouds
indicates the finale,
the endless battle
coming to a close.
silence fills the crowd
surrounding the hole,
more rain collecting in the grass.
will this be a celebration
of the fight ending?
or
will this be a mourning
of the war lost?
to one, a victory.
to others, not.
this way.
this way
i’m tired of being this way
of forcing a smile
that never reaches me,
of pretending positivity
can quiet everything
that refuses to be silent.
i can’t escape the stress,
can’t outrun my own thoughts,
can’t seem to think clearly
or act properly.
and the worst part
is knowing i want to change,
but feeling like
i don’t even know
how to become someone
who can finally breathe.
someone who can blink
without tears falling.
↔️
a dirt path winds,
guiding a lost soul to harmony
in a world of chaos.
the scenery appears to repeat,
the same footprints overlapping
and hope begins to fade.
is it all the same?
is it at all worth it?
as despair sets in,
a fork appears,
setting up a choice-
go left,
continue down the path
and replay the story again.
go right,
step into darkness
and rest with despair.
it’s been a long journey,
maybe some rest is needed.
maybe it’s right.
🎆🎇
notes build up as fuses are lit,
silence invading the audience,
anticipation rising like the tide.
what a show it has been-
long to some, short to many,
but an experience to all.
all shows must end eventually
and this one?
it’s ready.
hope
the moon awoke
to greet the wishful souls,
but my own was absent
from the crowd.
hope is all,
but what is hope
if surrounded by darkness and fear?
to wish is to hope.
and my soul lost all of it.
how
how is one meant to cry
if the tears refuse to fall?
how is one meant to smile
if the pain is too much?
how is one meant to push
if the burden is too heavy?
how is one meant to shine
if the rain doesn’t stop?
how is one meant to grow
if the room is too small?
how is one meant to love
if the heart is cracked?
how is one meant to speak
if the words remain silent?
how is one meant to wait
if the train is moving?
how is one meant to heal
if the wound is too deep?
how is one meant to continue
if the desire is gone?
it will repeat.
i stare at it,
ringing as if i am still asleep,
desperately trying to wake me
for another day.
i scan my badge,
wearing a mask
riddled with cracks
as the clock ticks slowly.
i drive home,
music blasting
but my thoughts sit in silence,
endlessly replaying in their yard.
i get inside,
my mind static
as i wait for my body to collapse,
accepting sleep like it’s the only ending
i will receive.
all to repeat it over again,
the same cycle as
yesterday,
today,
and tomorrow.
🎂
the clock reaches twelve,
like it’s been waiting all year
to do this to me.
no candles,
no voices filled with song,
just the wind stinging my cheeks.
my birthday ends,
and nothing arrives with it.
the quiet invites itself in,
so heavy it knocks the air out of me,
louder than any wish i never said out loud.
a single tear slips free-
warm, unannounced,
as if my body understood before i did.
this is the moment
where hope stops pretending-
where endings are finished.
the past feels distant now,
names erased by time,
memories thinning like old photographs left in the sun
i don’t argue anymore-
i just listen
as the clock ticks.
and in that stillness,
i finally understand.
this was the sign-
the last one i needed.
🔌
hollowed out and quiet,
the days are just rooms
i walk through
because the doors happen to be open.
there is no gold at the end of the hall,
no sudden light,
just the steady hum of the furnace
and the shadows stretching
at four in the afternoon.
i am a vessel with the plug pulled,
light as a dried leaf,
floating not because i have a destination,
but because the air is moving
and i am still here to be moved.
no mountain to climb,
no breath to catch,
no star to shine.
just the slow, gray peace
of existing
without needing a reason why.
rog's poems 