wrinkles

i repaid you in every way i could,
monetarily and physically, and i
said that i was sorry over and over again
(so many times i lost count), and even
then i didn't feel like it was enough,
but when i meet you face to face, you
tell me that it's all right and you forgive me
with your old friendly smile and when
i ask if i can do anything, anything
at all, you only tilt your lips and
shake your head. “it's not necessary,”
you tell me as you walk away, while i
watch your disappearing back and
grimace with the knowledge that i will
never fully iron out the creases of guilt
in my soul.