Almost every line in this poem is an apology. The speaker addresses someone named Helen, apparently a friend, and goes back over their first meeting, wishing they had never said "hi" or given their name. From there the regret spreads outward: they are sorry for trying, for failing, for talking about themselves, and finally for simply being who they are.
What stands out is how the apology has become a habit. The speaker admits it is "what I always say, what I always feel," which suggests a deep, lasting sense of unworthiness rather than one specific mistake. The belief that people stay in your life has been shattered by being "abandoned" and "omitted," so the speaker now half-wishes to be alone. The closing lines, "a horrible daughter," "a horrible friend," "a horrible self," are blunt and heartbreaking. The missing apostrophes and rough punctuation make the poem feel raw and unpolished, like a message typed in a low moment. The mood is sad, exhausted and painfully self-critical.