The Apologies I Never Heard

They never said
they were wrong.

Not once.

Even when
their silence
cut deeper
than anything
they spoke aloud.

Even when
I stood
in the middle
of the storm
they made
alone,
drenched,
and forgotten.

I kept waiting
for a message,
a glance,
a whisper
anything
that sounded
like sorry.

But pride
is louder
than guilt
in some hearts.

And I?
I broke
without making noise.

They’ll say
they cared.
They’ll say
they didn’t mean it.
But they won’t say
they were wrong.

So I carry
the apology
they never gave
folded
in the corners
of my memory.

It’s not justice.
It’s not closure.
But it’s mine.

And sometimes
that’s all we get.