I Apologize

I am not a graceful person I am not a sunday morning or A friday sunset. I am a tuesday 2 a.m. I am gunshots muffled by a Few city blocks, I am a broken window During February. My bones crack on A nightly basis. I fall from elegance with A dull thud, and I apologize for my Awkward sadness. I sometimes believe That I don't belong around people, that I Belong to all the leaps days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin Has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, But you hear the Echoes.