I whisper "I'm sorry" to the breeze,
With no one in mind, or rather..everyone,
An open message in a bottle, beginning with "To whom it may concern"
The "whom" being the countless I wronged,
Some were friends, some were acquaintances, and others..were family and other close, sacred bonds not meant for tampering,
Its all I can do, its all I can think of at moments like these,
I cannot atone, I cannot change what has already been written in the days past,
People can forgive, people can also remember a grudge, its all the same..
In the end, what's done is done, and I can't undo any wrong by sheer force of will.
My mistakes are a blemish that I carry until the very end, and death is the only one who can cure such an aggressive pox,
But only on my end, my comprehension and consciousness of past mistakes..they will fade with my memories of the world,
But in truth memores of me the world has will never fade.
They carry it, in their hearts,
The people I whose lives I walk through casually, and those I did so more deliberately,
The memores will phase out one by one but I know there will always be memories that stay into hearts until they stop beating and rot,
And remnants and at the very least..a remnant will always endure, so I, like all people and things in this world will be immortal in a sense.
I wanted to be "good" but like all humans I destroyed myriad things, tangible and intangible with the best of intentions wrapped in a person riddled with flaws,
And its the best I got, a "i'm so very sorry" to the wind..to the world..
They will hear it, those who need to, their souls will subtley be a perch that catches this particle, this airborne seed, this ethereal strand,
And I needed them to hear it, to accept it into their hearts..despite being ingrates,
They are ingrates, I am an ingrate, we deserve nothing and everything at the same time,
And life teaches us this with generosity of both blessings and curses.
In the end..I wish I could seal the words with a tear, to show sincerity and authenticity,
For words are a noise and utterance of the throat, but a tear..a tear is formed from purest communications of the heart,
For pain or joy a tear is never deceitful.
Find this message when the aetherial, raging seas bring them your way in due time, and at the very least accept it, beyond that..I am peace with any outcome.