I'm sorry

Before he could even sharpen his tongue
start slicing away at what I had left
I said it first
I'm sorry
I'm sorry that I expected greatness from you
pyramids of possibility built on a mustard seed
or limitless lyrics running on a continuous beat
without ever crossing a bridge
I have intangible artifacts of what we could have been
you were Jean-Michel Basquiat
scouring my skin, looking for places
to test a new technique
colors that prisms search the light trying to find
it was the most gratifying graffiti
but again, I'm sorry
I'm sorry that you don't know your father
that you have this manhole
in the center of your chest
a crawl space where you avoid the son
but you are his shadow
and I have climbed out of enough to know
that you can go blind
living in the dark
you see, I don't wear these glasses for fun
I should have known
you could never finish a poem
and I'm sorry I look like your mother
a piece of bark
torn from a tree
cut down and twisted into a cross
then set on fire
that still stands tall
it's probably why my words burn like raw morning
and I have this caramelized coating
with a soft center
but you would prefer something more exotic
concocted from a perpetuated fantasy
I'm sorry I have bad hair
and too much common sense
to let your lies lie here
take up space in my bed
I would have to wash my sheets 5 times a week
use bleach
and get them dry cleaned
to protect them from potential hurt
so I'm glad that you're doing this now
because baby,
I feel so sorry
for you.