I’ve written too many letters
to too many ghosts,
ideas that I’ve lost and I faces I don’t remember.

I’ve said too many sorries
to people I feel have done me wrong
because I can’t stand knowing that I have to do the forgiving.

I’ve sent too many threats
empty, wanton pleads
disguised as boasting about how well I handle pain.

I’ve said too much
and listened too little.