Bypass

You think I've passed you by
but I couldn't think of anything worse.
However seeing a body in a hearse
brought some truths home.
You are my one and only,
not in a melodramatic way,
but a pedantic "I don't want to be an orphan" way.
We do need to cling on to each other,
but like magnets we sometimes repel one another.
I'm like a lawn you've kept mowing;
you'll never stop owing me a little snip
here and there.
It's control; you don't like that
taken out of your hands because you're strong in every way.
I have bypassed today,
not for want of caring but
for fear of the excruciating pain of
losing someone again.
My love is a stalwart and will not shudder
but the boat beneath me
is lacking a rudder.
You try. Tell me to get by.
My heart, though, is a pressed leaf.
Nothing inside, underneath or beyond
tomorrow.
Apologies are never accepted;
shame a migrant stowaway and disease
that riddles me.
You will never consider me a person,
not a child.
I have so many regrets
and owe debts for the acts and the rants.
Fear like the shadows of spider plants
and plagues of fire ants crawl on me.
Will you ever say "sorry" to me?
Doubtful.
Hateful.
Spiteful.
Selfish.
That's me.
I wish I could show you
the person I've attempted to be.
Come to my place, see my life,
read my letter.
Know your daughter. You might be proud,
if you met her.