I'm so sorry.  

I really wish I could beat the hell out of myself
all those days that I ignored you.
Maybe a black eye,
broken leg, bloody nose
but no number of bruises, cuts, or
swollen tissue could amount to the pain
I hold now. It's really fucking sick
that I'm doing it again, I know.
But I just don't want this this fragile
dispondent image to be the last thing
I picture when you're gone.