How

How am I supposed to tell you
that the mistake I made last year—
the one that you forgave through tears—
will never be a memory?

How can I prepare you for
the pain of loosing loved ones?
Should I tell you, Remember—
know that I will be with you,
help you shoulder stigma
that I have given you.

How can I comfort you when
the family that loves you
fears the thing, the label that
you will always be known for?

How can I apologize
for taking away your hope?
And now, how can I ask you
to stay with me, love me, and
care for me until we’re done?

How am I supposed to look
in the mirror every day
only to see our judge, jury,
and our executioner?

All because of one mistake
I made and brought home to you.
How can I say I’m sorry
for taking the lives we had
yet to live? I never meant
for this to happen to you.