I would run back
And turn on all the lights
And kiss your lips so hard they bled,
Hold your body so hard you bruised me
Release you only to return softer,
More certain, survivor of my desire.
If I hadn’t been so different from that,
We might’ve had a chance.
Now you have the world, alone:
Freedom from and for whatever you choose.
I continue on, a storyteller
Telling tales without names,
With faces so faint
And colors so bold
The past looks more like a palette than a portrait.
And I’ll be just fine without the bruises that would’ve healed
And the blood that would’ve dried
And the lives we could’ve lived
Because every choice leads us closer
To the core of truth we hold inside,
The mistakes and blessings
Are indistinguishable as sunset is from rising day
The point at which the colors break.