Misplaced Regret Poem by Sue Stone

I'm sorry.
There's no easy way to say this,
you cause me more distress than I have the ability to cope with.
I must go.

I mentally offer you an apologetic shrug,
even though it hurts, to the core of me, when my shoulders move.
I made a mistake,
and in doing so I am diminished,
shrinking further and further into this wizened, emotionally dehydrated
creature I have become.
Look at me;
my shoulders hunched and stature bowed,
my gaze kept low and servile.

Mother always taught me, Put your shoulders back! '
A daily irritation in my teenage years
and yet,
some wisdom there I think.
I straighten my stature, lift my head,
my eyes lift seeking a gleam of light
to aid my direction.
I reclaim myself,
all that I was.

My ability to laugh to the point of embarassment
at the way my mouth would contort, almost to a caricature of weeping.
My ability to sit motionless in the joy of being still.
My ability to dance with my children,
to whirl like a dervish,
while in the embrace of being alive.
The comfort of being silent in the presence of God.
My ability to keep myself safe
in the presence of my own resourcefulness.

There is no such emotion as guilt it is simply misplaced regret.
And I am sorry, truly, but
you have caused me more distress than I have the ability to cope with.
I will go.