going to print this out and read it whenever I feel less than myself

Ntozake Shange from "for colored girls who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf"

one thing i dont need

is any more apologies

i got sorry greetin me at the front door

you can keep yrs

i dont know what to do wit em

they dont open doors

or bring the sun back

they dont make me happy

or get a morning paper

didnt nobody stop usin my tears to wash cars

cuz a sorry

i am simply tired

of collectin

i didnt know

i was so important to you

i'm gonna haveta throw some away

i cant get to the clothes in my closet

for all the sorries

i'm gonna tack a sign to my door

leave a message by the phone

'if you called

to say yr sorry

call somebody

else

i dont use em anymore'

i let sorry/didnt meanta/& how cd i know abt that

take a walk down a dark & musty street in brooklyn

i'm gonna do exactly what i want to

& i wont be sorry for none of it

letta sorry soothe yr soul/i'm gonna soothe mine

you were always inconsistent

doin something & then bein sorry

beatin my heart to death

talkin bout you sorry

well

i will not call

i'm not goin to be nice

i will raise my voice

& scream & holler

& break things & race the engine

& tell all yr secrets bout yrself to yr face

& i will list in detail everyone of my wonderful lovers

& their ways

i will play oliver lake

loud

& i wont be sorry for none of it

i loved you on purpose

i was open on purpose

i still crave vulnerability & close talk

& i'm not even sorry bout you bein sorry

you can carry all the guilt & grime ya wanna

just dont give it to me

i cant use another sorry

next time

you should admit

you're mean/low-down/triflin/& no count straight out

steada bein sorry all the time

enjoy bein yrself

I don't know what's more depressing: having the hope that maybe you called me and left a voicemail asking to talk about anything OR the fact that when I finally got into my voicemail and listened to the 8 new messages and found out none of them were from you, my heart sank a little.

I might not ever get used to this.

Watching cliche romantic movies is certainly not helping either.

I do this to myself time and time again, but I never seem to learn to quit it.

Even though I know I need to stop, I can't seem to.

I wish I had all the answers.

I wish I knew exactly what to do to make this stop.

But I don't.

I don't think I ever will.