Most nights I pray for some of the people I know and have known.
Sometimes, when I publish a story or poem, just before I click the button to give it birth, I apologize to it. I apologize because I feel, if there was more time, I could make it better. I ask it for forgiveness, wishing I could have served it better. But there’s not enough time for making it better. There’s too many other things to write. Too many more poems to rush out into the world.
Whether it’s praying for souls or apologizing to poems, either one seems ridiculous and absurd. I know they’re both senseless acts. But I can’t help it.