I’m sorry for being this way

I'm sorry for being this way with you,

for the weight I carry, the things I do.

I wish I wasn't—I truly do—

but it's hard, so hard, to pull myself through.

I don't excuse the way I act,

I see it, I feel it—that's a fact.

But knowing doesn't make it right,

or turn my darkness into light.

I don't want to lose you, not at all.

Without you, I stumble, I break, I fall.

I love you too much to just let go,

even when my actions don't let it show.

I push you away, but never mean to,

each word a battle, a war I lose.

I hate myself for being this way—

if I were different, would you stay?

But I'm done, I swear, no more fight,

no more pushing you into night.

If you need to go, I'll understand,

but please—don't slip from my hand.

If leaving is what you need to do,

I won't hold on, I won't plead.

Just know, I never wanted to hurt you—

and I'm sorry.