Malas traducciones

I am the type to wake now

have I even gone to bed did I roll

over a shard of regret every bit as wide

as it is jagged was it always there

must’ve never left must’ve never gotten it

I have clumsy fingers I have graceless

hands they feel big and wrong

holding the painstaking gift of your preciousness

it keeps me up at night, winded by remorse

I am the type to type

oxygen back into lungs

write my breath into my chest for nothing else

works when you feel so foolish

I not only regret hurting you when I failed to value

how priceless it is to be given love you can actually hold

embroidered with everything money can’t touch

I regret being so foolish I couldn’t see that this was all logical

Not sentimental.

Logical.

Creation takes work takes time takes caring takes guts takes heart takes takes takes and gives

so freely and I am the type

or thought I was the type to get it.

Did not. Took two beats too long

and in two blinks I had crushed all its beauty

in my big wrong hands.

Though I asked for forgiveness and forgiveness I got

I can never undo those two seconds of harm

my deepest regret

will keep me awake every now and again

and I am the type

to suffer gladly.