bandaids and glue

How is it, that while I see the scars of

all your doppelgangers on my face, my body, my arms; I am blind to your ability to add to these wounds?

I apologize for you again and again,

and I beg forgiveness to my reflection.

There are no excuses for you, or me,

or for the entaglements we weave.

I wrap and patch, and wonder if

the glue and bandaids will hold.

Don't worry love, no one will

ever know it was you.