xvwriting

India

eyes that see beyond just colours...

to every unspoken word, unfaithful smile and forgotten memory.

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Message from Writer

Never underestimate the power of a pen, and use this weapon to disclose your emotions.
Writing holds that part of my heart that seldom love cannot occupy.

an alphabetical apology to my ex-lovers

April 16, 2019


                            before learning her ABC
                   a 4-year old girl was once told
"Never say you're sorry unless you mean it."

i am sorry.
i am sorry A, that my ass, too has stretchmarks,
stretchmarks that are tributaries of every 
single tear i've cried
over the fact that my body 
isn't "hot enough" for you.

i am sorry B, that my breasts are "deflated airbags."
airbags that run out of oxygen
every time i wear a bra size
twice as big as i actually should,
so that you,
           you and i
can share your pleasure
of making me feel like
            i'm breathless.

i am sorry C, that i can't understand why 
you cheated on me
                with my best friend.
i am sorry that
i wasn't "good enough" or that i didn't 
                                trust you.
and that my lack of trust is the reason why
you found shelter in her bosom
            whereas all i gave you
was a roadmap of my address.
                my address you say
           which was inaccessible
because you were busy
                locating her.
busy, abandoning the home 
i so-called our relationship.
            and thus leaving me
i am sorry i
haven't "understood the bond you had with her"
     because all we shared was a key to a home
                                which you never lived in.

i am sorry D, that you didn't want to dance on our prom night
i am sorry that all you wanted was
                      to tear that corsage 
                                 off my body
              and poke those thorns in
                              my ugly heart
i am sorry 
that you thought that dancing under the stars
            was not the same
                          with me.
  but a using my body was.
because i wasn't "beautiful enough."
to be that girl
                that deserves your love.

i am sorry E, that my eyes
weren't strong enough.
for every time you'd violate my consent
my eyes would answer your 'passion'
                    with saline emptiness
and you'd see a reflection of resistance
                          in my tears
but wouldn't stop them from 
mirroring my virtue.
i am sorry i couldn't be that
                                    vase
that vase, that was delicate but infrangible.
that vase that collects flowers
that you plucked so 'passionately' from my garden.
so "passionate"
that you forgot that 
those flowers were just
growing
buds. 

i am sorry F, that i was so forgettable.
i am sorry that you left me
without realising you left.
                          you left me
because i wasn't a reason enough to stay.
because leaving me would only mean
that you’re right.
but you were all that i had left.
and ironically
i was the only thing you
                              left.
 
i am sorry G, that i couldn’t give you what you wanted.
that you couldn’t love me for me.
but only love me for
what i could be.
only love me if i was a genie
so that you could be
                     needy
and you could use me.
i tried to be your barbie
so that you could’ve brushed my hair
and undressed me everywhere.
even at my own dog’s funeral.
i am sorry i was insensitive to
                    your feelings
and i am sorry
you were
                        nothing
                                                to mine.
 
i am sorry H, that you didn’t want to ‘hurt’ my feelings
so you didn’t indulge in them at all.
i am sorry that i cried more
when you found it funny
that i would cry.
i am sorry that you tried to love me
with my imperfections
            infinitely increasing
like the
                scars on my wrists.
like those scars
that multiply like the
                stars in the sky.
 
i am sorry J, that i couldn’t handle your jokes
and your ‘slightly inappropriate but original
                                               humour”.
i am sorry, that every time you cracked a joke
on me: a ‘slutty hoe’
                i took offence.
i’m sorry
            i took offence in
every comment you made
about how the
            number of guys
that i slept with
were the same
         number of tears
i cried before i slept
i am sorry,
that i wasn’t "sporty enough"
to let you humour the fact that
my unsuccessful relationships
grew in the soil
of my "filth", themselves.
 
i am sorry K, that i wouldn’t consider your
                                        contributions.
            i am sorry that i felt lonely when
 you forgot to call me on valentine’s day
           because you were ‘busy’, my love
i am sorry that i forgot to tell you that
                    my birthday was arriving,
that i forgot to
call your brother’s wife’s aunt for hers
               and that i never
‘appreciated’ your efforts
                  because i was
                done with mine.
 
i am sorry L, that you weren’t looking for love:
all you wanted was that Juliet to your Romeo,
a lust that lasted few moments long
                and ended with a sudden
                                            death.
not till death do us part, though?
just until your feelings died.
 
i am sorry M, that my mother was looking out for me.
    i am sorry that i introduced you to my family
                           and you their concern for me
was ‘commitment you couldn’t afford to make.’
      i am sorry that when my mother asked you
               of your intentions related to me
and she didn’t appreciate when
you depicted me as the
                                "whore"
                                i truly am.
 
i am sorry N, i didn’t want to be the echo to your narcissus,
i am sorry that i couldn’t watch you
                                love yourself
                    just like i loved you
i am sorry that when we went for dinner
you would rather stare at the mirror
and gel your hair
because “to be fair”
you looked handsome.
i am sorry that when you got up at night
                                i sang you lullabies
                                                lullabies that cured your insomnia that
                                                lullabies dried my throat
and the quench of thirsty lack-of-attention i felt,
was as if i were a flaccid leaf;
                      in a dying tree.
 
i am sorry O, i hurt you so,
even though i didn’t mean to.
i swear, i didn’t know
i am sorry that you thought
                   i was "perfect" 
and while you waited for me to
                     abandon our love
you forgot, i would never. never leave you
even if we weren’t meant to be forever.
                if faith was what we needed,
i tried to pray for both our souls
                in unison.
but what can i say
god, o god only knew what i felt
when you said
“i cannot love you”.
 
i am sorry P, that my patience was ‘boring’.
i am sorry that i waited for you at night
                        till 2am
so that when you came back home
            i could kiss you.
i am sorry
that my dark circles
resembled that black hole of my heart
            that only you could complete.
i am sorry that
you’d come home all tired
                    and fatigued;
and that when i’d ask you about your day
and i’d wait for you to fall asleep:
all you felt
was a repulsion.
because you didn’t want me.
because you thought
                  all i was
was a “convenience.”
 
i am sorry Q, that i couldn’t stay with you
when i found out when you were married.
                            i tried
                    but it tore me apart.
            and it dented my morals
         and it felt like
i was in the middle of the road
when the headlights stop working
and my ethics crashing into my heart
                        and running over it.
and No,
i couldn’t even think about breaking apart a family
                            because i know
                            how hard it is
to drift away from someone who loves you deeply.
 
i am sorry R, that i let you rashly run
your fingertips through my vagina.
as if i was a pack of cards.
i’m sorry that i didn’t say “no”
            a little earlier.
so that you could find another
victim to your legal assaults,
another name to that long list of yours
another story that would never be told.
 
i am sorry S, that i shivered when in your arms.
                        it was just that
i tried to let your touch soothe my so-called heart.
like blanketed snow that covers pavements
                i soaked my tears
                in my burnt flesh.
                it isn’t your fault
trust me when i say so
because all you wanted was to
      comfort the corners of my
                    shattered soul,
                                           right?
 
i am sorry T, that i tried too much.
that every single day
i’d wake up at 5 am
i'd put on some concealer,
        and paint my scars
 try to make them stars.
i’m sorry that you didn’t know me
                                         for me.
because i forgot who i was.
i am sorry, that every time
 you thought of me,
it was actually a superficially
flawless, unrealistic pariah
you knew.
i wish i could let you see me
                               for me.
and i wish that your eyes would sparkle for
                                            the real me.
        and i was too scared to see
            what your eyes would feel,
so i never really showed you anything.
 
i am sorry U, that you couldn’t see through
my unfaithful smiles.
i’m sorry i couldn’t let you listen to
my unspoken words
because if you heard them;
i wasn’t sure you
would perceive my as
“ugly” for my looks
only.
 
i am sorry V, i wouldn’t respond rightfully
                                     to your violence.
i am sorry
            that i wouldn’t cry when you
    hit me that night.
or punched me
or played me
like i was a broken violin,
giving you all the more reason
                    to be “rougher”.
i thought you were my valentine,
        i swear, i vowed to myself
        that i will marry you one day.
for i thought i could convert
venomous into valiant.
and i’m sorry i quit trying.
 
i am sorry W, by the time i came to you
i was a ‘wretched whore’.
i am sorry that
            when i was yours
i had those writings on my walls
they labelled me a “solicit slut.”
and i knew that it didn’t matter to you much
because you yourself, wrote it on me.
but i’m sorry i didn’t live up to your
“expectations” of being "easy".
            because trust me,
         i am not.
 
i am sorry Y, i couldn’t be your trophy.
i am sorry that i felt like i was being used
            when you held me tight in
        front of your friends.
but when we lay in bed
you would rather sleep backing me.
        like a sunflower without her sun
i began to wither without you in my world.
and i am sorry,
you lost your “conquest”
your "victory", your object
when autumn arrived.
 
i am sorry Z, by the time i came to know you
i couldn’t do it anymore.
i swear it wasn’t your fault.
and i promised myself you weren’t ABC
                                             but my heart
my defiant, ungrateful, unapologetic heart
                couldn’t afford break once more.
like war-like soldiers
who no-longer knew
home was a place,
i wish i could reside in your love.
 in your true
            genuine
            hopeful
            love.
but that heart of mine was certain
    that you'd complete the ABC.
        and that would be my end.
i couldn’t even risk a bit for you.
i am sorry, because i knew you loved me.
                                            for me.
                                for my past.
            for my imperfections.
but i was so sure that love
was that fire that ignites
the world to ashes.
and i was burnt a hundred times before.
i knew if you burnt me:
               i'd go to hell,
so i didn't even let you
be my potential angel.
 
the thing is, i should be sorry
and even though i wish i would be,
even though i wish i could learn my alphabets
                                                                      in order.
i was once told
“Never say you're sorry unless you mean it”.
i am sorry I
that i don’t deserve
            an apology.
that i always sin.
but what can i do, my heart
is that wave that knows no direction.
that wave, that curls up
    when a wind blows by.
i don't deserve an apology
so i say this with that heart:
i truly am not sorry.

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  • April 16, 2019 - 4:32am (Now Viewing)

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3 Comments
  • Jae

    oh my gosh, this was literally so meaninful, and good, and just real damn amazing, you can write so well!!!!!!
    :DDDDDDDD


    about 1 year ago
  • xvwriting

    Thank you so so so much!


    about 1 year ago
  • Gray_1604

    This is very deep and meaningful. Wonderful piece


    about 1 year ago