I’m sorry. 

I’m sorry that we never got to laugh and cry together. 

I’m sorry that you couldn’t tell me off when I didn’t brush my teeth.

 I’m sorry that you couldn’t tidy my hair, kiss me goodnight, and wish me goodluck. 

I’m sorry that I couldn’t ask you about soup and bees, love and stuff.

 I’m sorry that we didn’t watch TV, walk in the winter sun or shelter from the pouring rain. 

I’m sorry that I didn’t drive you mad wobbling home late with cider and girls on my lips. 

I’m sorry that I have nothing to hold on to, no memories to describe. 

I’m sorry  when I see your eyes they don’t touch a memory inside.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you, that no one reached you just in time.

I’m sorry that you didn’t find a different path, we could have met along the way.

I’m sorry for your own story, hateful fragments that I now know.  

I’m sorry for the  silence, a deep and unforgiving snow. 

I’m sorry that we didn’t hug and tell each other things would be ok.

I’m sorry that I could not call or text to tell you that I miss you. 

I miss you.