Stitches Over Time

I'll never be able to say,
"I'm sorry."
Did I love you?
Maybe, if I didn't break your heart,
I would have,
but I was already broken.
I was lost in pain.
You tried to give me
what I always wanted,
and I tore it apart,
threw it aside.
And I ripped out your heart.
I look back on all those men
that promised to save me,
but I broke them down,
cruel and bitter,
leftovers from the monsters
that tore me down.
And when the white knights
finally rode away,
I was left to myself,
leaving the door open
for the wrong men
to take me
and break me,
and love was nothing more
than a dream.
Now, I'm looking back.
I'm looking back at you,
and I'll never get the chance
to say,
"I'm sorry."
But I will always be sorry
for the wrong I have done,
for the wrong I have done
to you.
Time can't heal my wounds,
but no more do I let
the monsters waltz in.
I'm looking for love
but not in the wrong places,
and if love returns to me,
no more will I destroy
what I have always dreamed.
Instead, I will let it take
hold of my heart,
heal my wounds,
and let me live again.