Cambio Network
Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

I'm sorry

You look at me like you don't know me,
I'm just a memory to you,
but when you think of me,
I don't bring butterflies or warm feelings.
I sting.
To you, my voice sounds like nails on a chalk board. My eyes that once shined brighter than the stars above our town,
are now just as pointless as the calls I almost make to you.
I will never understand why people hold grudges, but i don't blame you.
I don't forgive myself either.




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