You could stab me in the chest
and I’ll still apologize
for bleeding on your pristine dress

I am so broken, so fragmented
that I can’t help but beg for forgiveness
even as I lay dying at your feet

I have been shattered, torn apart
by the weight of my own self-doubt
and the echoes of my own mistakes

So go ahead, stab me in the chest
and watch as I apologize
for the stains I leave behind

For I am already broken
and the blood on your clothes
is just the final reminder
of what I have lost.

© Karpop Riba