I’m sorry that I haven’t loved you as well as you’ve deserved. I know that your hands are capable of creating artwork and your chest has a heart in it that keeps beating even when it breaks. I’m sorry your lungs have started to burn, that I didn’t do anything to stop it. I’m sorry for all of the bruises you bare on your knees, that I didn’t catch you before you scratched your elbows. I know the pain in your rib cage is a result of things I did to make it that way, I know that I am the reason you can’t breathe. I didn’t grow up wanting to leave these scars on your ankles, I am so sorry for all the times I’ve made you bleed. I hope I can learn to love you right, I hope you grow to be better than the love that I gave you.