a rare poetic moment

I carry my errors like stones.

When I left instead of speaking.
When I spoke instead of listening.
When I allowed anger instead of compassion.
A false accusation, a projection.
Ignorance, selfishness, judgment.

All these stones, they never leave me.
Apologies do not break them.
They stack up in my heart,
and even if forgiven, I do not lay them down.

Sometimes, instead of seeing your face,
I see the stones I carry for you.
Hurts I've caused you.
Those errors that are bygones for you,
are stones for me.

I love you.
But these stones remind me
that you have reasons to not love me back.

I cannot undo what has been done,
so I try to make up for these errors,
but nothing allows me to put down my burden.

I am forever trying to heal a bleeding wound
that cannot be staunched by stones.