Resentment

there’s a taste in my mouth 
that trickled in through my ear
along a watered route of chisel marks
gathering grit, mud and moss

I can’t even remember the words 

but I want it to explain this taste

so perhaps it’s just the silt

of the moments that spilled before

there’s no grudge

but I’m scratching the sore

to find the justification

for once feeling another way 

to be offered a lifetime of apology

from the wrong person