Poem Love Sorry Guilt Quotes

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 alla the time
enjoy bein yrself ~ Ntozake Shange

The guilt fell upon him like a hammer to a nail. He dropped onto his bed, grabbing the picture frame that sat next to it. I'm sorry were the words that repeatedly came out of his mouth. All he could think was, how could he do that to her? To the woman he vowed to spend the rest of his life with. His stomach hurt just from thinking about it. ~ Courtney Giardina

They tell you
That the world will love you back
If you love yourself enough
I am sorry to say
It doesn't really work in that way
Know your worth
When someone treats you like
You are ordinary
Know your worth
When he fails to appreciate you
Know your worth
When he tells you that
He no longer needs you
Know your worth
When she cannot love you fully
Know your worth
They tell you
That the world will love you back
If you love yourself enough
I am sorry to say
It doesn't really work in that way ~ Jyoti Patel

Isn't it interesting that emotionally abusive personalities always expect their victim to feel guilt for them so that they can feel sorry for themselves? They live in a constant torture by the demons of fear and regret, and the less they assume responsibility for their own behavior and words, the greater the legion that eventually possesses their soul and leads them to hell before they reach it. A normal communication is a luxury for such individuals, for their spirit is now a hostage to the torture of ignorance, the separation between their brain and their soul. The only thing they can do is manipulate and provoke, because they're being distracted by their new hosts towards pushing away the ones that could take them out of the water where they have chosen to drown themselves when giving up on trust, empathy, compassion and love. No one can save them because they have not clearly stated that they want to be saved. And each human is responsible for his own fate. ~ Robin Sacredfire

We always make the best decision we can based upon what we believe in that moment. When I was growing up, my father and I experienced a lot of tension with each other for many years. He had bipolar disorder and it was very difficult for him. As I got older and went through my transformation of consciousness and really forgave him - and forgave myself and forgave the world - my father started showing up in my awareness as an angel. He got happier and happier and our relationship began to improve. People would say, "Your dad
has really changed a lot," and I would say, "My mind has really changed." My father was just reflecting that back. In fact, he came to me one day and said, "David, I'm sorry. I was not a very good father. I didn't do the things that a good father should do."
I replied, "Nonsense! I don't believe that for one instant. You did the best you could and I did the best I could. You didn't let me down and I didn't let you down. We're not going to buy into that guilt trip anymore."
He lit up when I said this. His whole demeanor changed and he instantly reflected love back to me. That simple exchange completely rearranged our view of everything that had taken place during those early years. None of it mattered anymore. We had been mistaken about many things because we couldn't perceive truly while we were going through our time together. ~ David Hoffmeister

Soul Mate

When we are born, the soul we are given is split apart and half of it is given to someone else. Throughout our lives, we search for the person with the other half of our soul. Very few ever succeed.

I am blessed that we have met. In a sudden moment, warm within your loving glare, my soul said, "At last! I can rest. I have found my missing half." When this happens, it is said we have found our soul mate. We are happy and at peace. When we shared ourselves, we were engulfed in eternity, dancing in a timeless universe. I am truly blessed because that day, my heart recognized you as a part of its own.

Thank you for blessing me with you. Thank you for dreaming with me - for seeing the same future as I do. For your beautiful eyes, reminding me of the truest bliss in life. I am forever grateful for you.

I will spend an eternity loving you, caring for you, respecting you, showing you every day that I hold you as high as the stars.

I am sorry that it's taken me this long to find you – I shall make it up to you, my flower, as long as we live.

I love you! ~ Steve Maraboli

I'm sorry about what happened,' Love said.

Death squeezed his hand. 'Play as yourself. Not as me. Trust me one that. ~ Martha Brockenbrough

Don't be sorry;
Don't you cry.
It's enough
That you tried.
I love you,
And that won't change.
It's not your fault
Things worked out this way ~ Margo T. Rose

Sorry to inform you...but as a fellow failed miner, the problem is there's nowhere left to dig.
We're real poets man.
And whatever. But it's the digging, it's the holes! Its these burrows to half nestle in just to pass the time, to chafe the inner thigh of boredom and that level of power-demanding pain is only in existence because you really, really know that there isn't anything else.
The holes.
And me missing a shovel, that has created the voids, the tears, the fucks, the sucks, the shame, the stares, the songs, the words, and in admittedly, even more holes. Not having one of my shovels has somehow overcompensated the digs in which I've dug.
The holes.
The holes are why you smoke aware of cancer, a disease to take over years of boring lives, and give us a bone to gnaw on, overcome, defeat, lick-dry, or die.
The holes are why you drink with your last dollars, when you know you're going to throw it up tonight anyway.
The holes are why you think you're in love, and that's a hole that you might not climb back from.
The holes, the holes the holes, making you question everything standing at a bus stop...smelling like cigarettes and perfume...signing up for classes you wont go to... hand covered in club stamps... face covered in guilt... Maybe go to a protest and just stand there...Or lay in bed when there's no way you can sleep... ~ Wesley Eisold

The past doesn't exist. There is nothing to be sorry for. Today is when we start to live. Look ... look at the sea. The sea has no past. It is just there. It will never ask us to explain. The stars, the moon are there to light our way, to shine for us. What do they care what might have happened in the past? They are accompanying us, and are happy with that; can you see them shine? The stars are twinkling in the sky; would they do that if the past mattered? Wouldn't there be a huge storm if God wanted to punish us? We are alone, you and I, with no past, no memories, no guilt, nothing that can stand in the way of ... our love. ~ Ildefonso Falcones

He sat down among the evidence at a barren communal desk in the basement of the station. He looked through the stack of extra fliers that my father had made up. He had memorized my face, but still he looked at them. He had come to believe that the best hope in my case might be the recent rise in development in the area. With all the land churning and changing, perhaps other clues whould be found that would provide the answer he needed.
In the bottom of the box was the bag with my jingle-bell hat. When he'd handled it to my mother, she had collasped on the rug. He still couldn't pinpoint the moment he'd fallen in love with her. I knew it was the day he'd sat in our family room while my mother drew stick figures on butcher paper and Buckley and Nate slept toe to toe on the couch. I felt sorry for him. He had tried to solve my murder and he failed. He had tried to love my mother and he had failed.
Len looked at the drawing of the cornfield that Lindsey had stolen and forced himself to acknowledge this: in his cautiousness, he had allowed a murderer to get away. He could not shake his guilt. He knew, if no one else did, that by being with my mother in the mall that day he was the one to blame for George Harvey's freedom.
He took his wallet out of his back pocket and laid down the photos of all the unsolved cases he had ever worked on. Among them were his wife's. He turned them all face-down. 'Gone,' he wrote on each one of them. He would no longer wait for a date t ~ Alice Sebold

You've circled the globe to find yourself in the Globe,milady." Bill sketched a little bow.
"The Globe Theatre?" Luce ducked as the woman in front of her discarded a gnawed-on turkey leg by tossing it over her shoulder. "You mean, like, Shakespeare?"
"Well, he claims to be retired. You know those artist types. So moody." Bill swooped down near the ground, tugging at the hem of her dress and humming to himself.
"Othello happened here," Luce said, taking a moment to let it all sink in. "The Tempest. Romeo and Juliet. We're practically standing in the center of all the greatest love stories ever written."
"Actually,you're standing in walnut shells."
"Why do you have to be so glib about everything? This is amazing!"
"Sorry,I didn't realize we'd need a moment of bardolatry." His words came out lisped because of the needle clipped between his jagged teeth. "Now stand still."
"Ouch!" Luce yelped as he jabbed sharply into her kneecap. "What are you doing?"
"Un-Anachronizing you.These folks'll pay good money for a freak show, but they're expecting it to stay onstage. ~ Lauren Kate

It's you, Tessa." He crawled up her body and levered her onto her side, his fingers a warm link he tunneled in under her hair. "Don't you see? For the first time, I know what's real. My life isn't about doing what everyone else thinks is right in order to be happy. Not anymore. Because I found my own happiness." The ball of his thumb swept her lips. "I found it with you." How could she not believe him, when his words were so filled with love? "Tell me what you're thinking," he said.

"I'd forgotten what it's like, you know? It's been so long…I'd just forgotten how incredible it all feels." When tears rushed her eyes, she blinked them away. So she could stay right in the moment, within the tenderness of his gaze. She placed a hand on his chest, over his heart. "I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you did for me, Dibs. You've become everything that's good and right in my life. And I'm sorry if I made things difficult for you." His eyes glistened, two sparkling bits of heaven over a thin crescent of tears.

"Rex, you're breaking my heart over here."

"I'm just so grateful, and its important to me you understand. You gave me a second chance at happiness. You know that, right? ~ A.J. Nuest

You don't want me to feel obligated? Well, I'm sorry, Lily. I am here
because I feel obligated." He brought her hand to his chest, pressing her
palm flat against his rapidly thumping pulse. "I'm obligated by my heart. It's
decided you're essential to my existence, you see. And it's threatening to go out on labor strike if I don't make you mine this very day. So yes. I am here on bended knee, acting from a deep, undeniable sense of obligation. I am, quite simply, yours." He swallowed hard. "If you'll have me. ~ Tessa Dare

I'm sorry, did you just say your boyfriend ditched you to go shoe shopping?" my mom asks her.

Charlotte sighs and crosses her arms in front of her. "He didn't ditch me. I told him he could go because I was tired."

"You don't really mean shoe shopping right? You meant to say shopping for sports equipment or a new surround sound system, right?" Aunt Liz asks.

"He told us his favorite book of all time was Under the Rainbow: The Real Liza Minnelli. I'm pretty sure shoe shopping would be right up his alley," Mom reminds her.

"Has Rocco gotten the memo yet that he's gay?" Aunt Liz questions her.

Tyler starts laughing hysterically and reaches his hand up to fist-bump my aunt.

"Seriously, Mom? Are you judging him? That's really low," Charlotte complains.

"I'm not judging him. Some of the best people I've ever met are gay. I just don't particularly want my daughter dating someone who's gay."

Charlotte stomps her foot and growls at Liz, and I have to tell myself not to get too excited. I love seeing her get fired up. Her cheeks turn pink and her eyes sparkle. Now is NOT the time to get a boner.

"He is NOT gay! He's just … he's in touch with his feminine side."

Tyler snorts and Charlotte shoots an angry look in his direction.

"Honey, he doesn't have a feminine side. He has a vagina," Aunt Liz informs her. ~ Tara Sivec

Too many times
I've scratched myself on the thorn of a rose
Falling into a rose bush over and over again
Never understanding the need of a dozen
I fell in love with one and in the way it stood alone. ~ Marsha Warren

She shut her eyes, but it didn't help. It only made her more aware of Legend's deep voice as he said, "I'm sorry I left you that night. I shouldn't have left, I shouldn't have hurt you. And I shouldn't have gotten scared and run away when I realized that I was falling in love with you. ~ Stephanie Garber

The bottom line, though, is that I was a dumb, hormonal, fifteen-year-old girl. It was the wrong decision. [...] You never gave me the time of day to tell you how sorry I was once I came to my senses that following year. So, I need to say it now. I am so sorry if my leaving like that hurt you in anyway."
"Hurt me?" [...] "It changed me. I loved you. ~ Penelope Ward

All roads are tough, but you have to choose the one you know you'll never be sorry for taking. ~ Chris Burkmenn

I wanna make growing old with you
the last poem I ever have to write ~ Michael Biondi

A man in love is a sorry spectacle. ~ Agatha Christie

..Breaking yet budding,
dying yet living - standing
amongst ruins and rage,
reaching for possibilities
playing hard to get. ~ Meraaqi

What makes us leave what we love best?
What is it inside us that keeps erasing itself
When we need it most,
That sends us into uncertainty for its own sake
And holds us flush there
until we begin to love it
And have to begin again?
What is it within our own lives we decline to live
Whenever we find it,
making our days unendurable,
And nights almost visionless?
I still don't know yet, but I do it. ~ Charles Wright

He caught her arm. "I'm sorry," he whispered. His blue eyes were intent upon hers. "For I will love you the rest of my life. ~ Heather Graham

I'm not asking for much. A more tender world
with less hatred strutting the streets.
Perhaps a downtick in state-sanctioned violence
against civilians. Wind through the trees.
Water under the bridge. Kindness. ~ Matthew Olzmann

You're an expert at sorry and keeping the lines blurry ~ Taylor Swift

I've been giving out chances every time and all you do is let me down. ~ Taylor Swift

I have a tiny little secret hope that, after a decent period of silence and prose, I will find myself in some almost impossible life situation and will respond to this with outcries of rage, rage and love, such as the world has never heard before. Like Yeats's great outburst at the end of his life. This comes out of a feeling that endowment is a very small part of achievement. I would rate it about fifteen or twenty percent, Then you have historical luck, personal luck, health, things like that, then you have hard work, sweat. And you have ambition. The incredible difference between the achievement of A and the achievement of B is that B wanted it, so he made all kinds of sacrifices. A could have had it, but he didn't give a damn.[...]

But what I was going on to say is that I do strongly feel that among the greatest pieces of luck for high achievement is ordeal. Certain great artists can make out without it, Titian and others, but mostly you need ordeal. My idea is this: the artist is extremely lucky who is presented with the worst possible ordeal which will not actually kill him. At that point, he's in business. Beethoven's deafness, Goya's deafness, Milton's blindness, that kind of thing. And I think that what happens in my poetic work in the future will probably largely depend not on my sitting calmly on my ass as I think, "Hmm, hmm, a long poem again? Hmm," but on being knocked in the face, and thrown flat, and given cancer, and all kinds of other things short ~ John Berryman

YOU could wright him a poem!!" He screams while rolling around on the bean holding his stomach.
"Pleas stop."
"It could go.. Roses are Red, Violets are Bleu, You said I love you, and I said Thank you ~ Makeandoffer

You did good today."
Chase shook his head. "No, Zane. I made a big mistake. Phoebe could have died out there. We could have lost the steers. All because I pulled some stupid stunt. I'm sorry."
Zane's throat tightened. He tried to speak but couldn't. So he wrapped his arms around Chase and pulled him close.
"It's okay," he managed at last, his voice hoarse. "I screw up all the time, too. The thing is, I never let you see that."
Chase hugged him back. "For real?"
They straightened and stared at each other. He quickly told Chase the story of the stallion and how their father had reacted.
"I didn't want you to have regrets," Zane said. "Not like I did. But I've been so busy trying to save you, I've made your life hell."
His brother's eyes filled with tears. "Thanks."
"You're a good kid." He shook his head. "Sorry. A good man. I'm proud you're my brother and…" He hesitated for a second. "I love you, Chase."
His brother sucked in a breath, then hugged him tight. "I love you, too, Zane. ~ Susan Mallery

You, too, were supposed to be a one-night stand. A quick fix. A conquest. A ten-line poem in my grand anthology of lovers.
But you altered the narrative, you marked your territory on my timeline o that as I look back, I find I can neatly divide my more recent past into two unequal halves: before you and after. ~ Rosalyn D'Mello

I'm so sorry about all you're going through, but I'm not sorry that it brought you to me. ~ Lisa Brown Roberts

Very well." The Red Wind shrugged, turning the pistol handles toward her. It didn't matter a whit to the Wind who did the deed, as long as it was done. She seemed to look at September fully for the first time. "You know, I do believe that's my coat," she mused. "And that is most certainly my cat."
Iago roared - a roar of love and remembering and recognition and regret. He did not leave the Marquess's side, but the roar said that he was sorry about it. ~ Catherynne M Valente

You ask
if I will write a poem
I could,
I suppose
write the most
splendiferous
one of all

but not
right
now
not when

your hands
are brewing
warm
cinnamon tea
across my skin

not when I'm
trying to imagine
what might happen
if you began
flowering
kisses
upon
me

My dear,
how can
I write
a poem
when I'm already
inside one? ~ Sanober Khan

Glistening liquid pooled in two spots. Matthew was trying to clean it up, but his hands were shaking, his jaw working. I grabbed some towels from the linen closet and knelt beside him.
"I have this," I whispered.
Matthew sat back, lifting his head and closing his eyes. He let out a staggered breath. "This should've never happened."
Tear built in my eyes as I sopped up what was left of Adam. "I know."
They are all like my children. Now I've lost another, and for what? It doesn't make sense." His shoulders shook. "It never makes sense."
"I'm sorry." Wetness gathered on my cheeks, and I wiped at my face with my shoulder. "His is my fault. He was trying to protect me."
…. "It's not just your fault Katy. This was a world you stumbled into, one filled with treachery and greed. You weren't prepared for it. Neither are any of them."
I lifted my head, blinking back tears. "I trusted Blake when I should've trusted Daemon. I let this happen."
Matthew twisted toward me, grasping my cheeks. "You cannot take on the full responsibility for this. You didn't make the choices Blake did. You didn't force his hand."
I choked on a broken sob as grief tore through me. His words didn't ease the guilt, and he knew it. Then the strangest thing happened. He pulled me into his arms, and I broke. Sobs raked my entire body. I pressed my head against his shoulder, my body shaking his, or maybe he was crying for his loss, too. Time passed, and it became New Yea ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

That poem was not by me. It is among the things which quite overpower me; I have never been able to read it without tears coming to my eyes; it sounds like a voice for which I have been waiting and waiting since childhood. The poem is by my friend Lou ... She is as shrewd as an eagle and brave as a lion, and yet still a very girlish child, who perhaps will not live long. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

I love to compare different time frames. Poetry can evoke the time of the subject. By a very careful choice of words you can evoke an era, completely throw the poem into a different time scale. ~ Robert Morgan

I've been stealing your soaps," I
tell him.
He raises his eyebrows at me.
"Sorry." I feel myself blush.
"Don't feel bad," he says, serious
so suddenly. "You can have anything of
mine you want. You can have all of it. ~ Tahereh Mafi

Compulsive eating is only the symptom; believing that you are not worth your own love is the problem. Go for the love. You will never be sorry. ~ Geneen Roth

could not sleep last night
bed cover of
unease distance
kept me awake
windy whispers in summer
night
was telling
you were awake
one corner to another rolling
like swimming in a competition
my heart wanted to see
you then n then
we live ,we love
on same earth mostly
rare within a real
another world don't allow us
to sleep
in side your ,or mine
restful love

©litymunshi ~ Litymunshi

I am in awe of flowers.
Not because of their colors,
but because even though they
have dirt in their roots,
they still grow.
They still bloom. ~ D. Antoinette Foy

Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Rachel snatched her hand back. Sorry, I forgot the rules. Everything's a joke until it's not, and words don't mean anything until you want them to. ~ Kit Rocha

Dear Miss Tremor. You are smart and kind and pretty. I think you have really excellent stuff under your clothes and I would like to see it, please. Let's go on a date and get married and you can be my rodent queen in my castle in the sewer. Love always and forever, --Mouse. P.S. I am sorry my rats ate some of your candy. ~ Gail Simone

Sometimes you don't die
when you're supposed to
& now I have a choice
repair a world or build
a new one inside my body
a white door opens
into a place queerly brimming
gold light so velvet-gold
it is like the world
hasn't happened
when I call out
all my friends are there
everyone we love
is still alive gathered
at the lakeside
like constellations
my honeyed kin
honeyed light
beneath the sky
a garden blue stalks
white buds the moon's
marble glow the fire
distant & flickering
the body whole bright-
winged brimming
with the hours
of the day beautiful
nameless planet. Oh
friends, my friends -
bloom how you must, wild
until we are free. ~ Cameron Awkward-Rich