Mediocrity

Forgive Me

You asked for my love, I gave it to you.
You asked for my time, I gave almost all of mine to you.
You asked for my kisses, I gave them to you.
You asked for my trust, I gave it to you.
You asked me to be blind to the wrong things you've been doing, I closed my eyes.
You asked me to stay silent, I didn't ask anything and shut my mouth.
You asked for my forgiveness, even when I was still hurting, as you were more important than my own tears, I gave it to you.
The second time you asked for it, I still gave it to you.
And then came the third time, the fourth, and on and on it continued.
The last time you apologized, I stopped you.
For I was the one who should say sorry.

You seemed to be asking that I tear my self into fragments each forgiving moment and feel nothing,
and that I can't do anymore.

I can't be fine with this again,
so I'm sorry.

I can't make you sincere to your words,
so I'm sorry.

I can't give you another chance to ask something from me,
so I'm sorry.

And I'm really sorry for giving you things that from the beginning, you clearly have never deserved.

Forgive me for giving too much that you turned into that kind of person.

But most importantly, maybe I should say sorry for the cause of all this.

Forgive me for loving you.