I Apologise.

I hold myself a captive audience.
Don’t feel as if you’re trapped.
I don’t want to load such ordinance.
I don’t want to fire back.

I don’t particularly like these twisted knots.
That sit tightly on my chest.
I don’t like looking back.
To things that don’t impress.

The onlookers have shifting eyes,
I don’t know why,
I feel so guilty.

These passersby don’t recognise,
The effort I made,
To keep you in my life.

Such trolley problems keep me up at night.
To make hard calls,
Or run.
Or hide.

Now I’m not so sure.
That I would do it all again.

But I ask you this,

If gumtrees need such forest fires,
To live, to grow, to bare bright flower.

If happenings make you fall of a cliff.
I just hope you can rise.

I just hope you can live.

Better than me.