I’m sorry.
I don’t blame you for hating me.
I know that I am loud and insane
but I do *try* to be considerate as much
as I possibly can be
although I realize
that don’t count for much.

I’m sorry you have to hear
all my lunatic rantings
and loud sex
and my taste in music

I cannot blame you
for saying FUCK YOU
to my face when I said
“oh, hello”
at our threshold

I can only try
and trying is never good enough.

I’m sorry I exist.
I’m sorry my parents had me.
I’m sorry you have to live under me.
I never made the rules
and seldom follow them, either.

I am sorry to be broken
and sorry for the fallout
which you endure.

I thank you for not calling the cops on me
I thank you for not acting out more

By the way
for a long time I wasn’t the insane
and annoying person who’s
living above you now
there was someone else but
unfortunately he left with no notice
left with all of his stuff here
including his insanity
and I just sort of absorbed it from the floor.

I’m sorry it took us so long to put any rugs down.
I’m sorry we haven’t put down more.

I’m sorry for my baggage.
I know you were here first.
I try to be good
I try to be nice
It does not always work.

I will always gladly watch out
so no one can steal your packages
I figure it’s the least a neighbor
could do for a neighbor
I actually like having neighbors,
and honestly, I think I like
having you as one.