Else

Empty Shells

I just thought I'd say that I'm sorry.

There isn't much else I can do.
I hope you find new life, far away
In your land of chestnut woods
Where you fled, ducking my apologies.

I suppose did throw them at you like punches.

I don't think you'll remember me,
Not then. So what if I, like only the good,
Die young? Would you even think to come
To the funeral? Or would you, after all?

What would it take to change your mind?

A word from my epitaph:
Don't forget, sometimes, to look back.
Listen, I promise my lack
Of social graces could have gotten better.

Maybe so, anyway.

But on this rainy day,
It drip-drops; never stops.
Is it like the tears that fall,
Or like my love for you?

Not a fiery, heart-gripping and shredding
Romantic love; I thought you knew.

It was the love of friends.
Friends forgive; I thought I knew.

Well, what I said, what I wrote,
I hoped you'd see it was past.
It's left there like dry bug skins,
No meat or life to those words.

I had already emerged a new creature.
Like claws tearing scales from my sides,
It hurt, but I was free. It was only those skins,
Those empty shell skins left behind.

When you found them, you didn't know
Those weren't me. An impostor,
A cicada's old body he already outgrew,
That's what you found. And sure,
I know it sounds a whole lot like an excuse.

Well, maybe you're right.
Maybe, maybe, night after night
I told myself, told myself
What I thought was the truth:

Those empty shells were the proof
That I had moved on.

I don't remember anymore.
I've moved on by now, that's sure.
Either way this letter reads,
I hope you'll take my apologies.

I just thought I'd say that I'm sorry.