If only I could write your name
along side our sin,
condemning you into the shame
you abandoned me in.
But the worm of retribution
can swear no loyalty
and the toll of its infection
be taken from the innocent.
Remorse is poisonous
– how I hope yours is sufficient
to blight his forgiveness.
My helpless rage has run its course,
leaving this bitter yield:
a dream of your suspended corpse
above the Potter’s Field.
I would have gone anywhere
and done anything
for a chance to talk to you.
That was years ago
– back when I used to think
chances were infinite.
Now I do what I can to catch a glimpse
as you walk past.
I think you’re avoiding me now.
The clock strikes 5
and I don’t see you by the bench
where we reconnected a few years ago.
I wish you understood
the pain of being avoided
for a simple glance.
Not a word nor an approach.
Not even a smile.
Maybe you knew my stomach turned
when our eyes locked.
I think of our time together
as a book I could not finish.
For all these questions without answer
(which cannot end a final chapter)
have left my mind with this one wish:
you were still a beautiful stranger.
This bond will break, it cannot bend.
Hold fast- I could not stop
the beginning of our end.
Who is to blame? We both had doubt.
But voiceless fear is an open wound
and silent answers sold us out.
You are not dead to me my dear
– yet if I feel no life with you,
then you’re the death of me I fear.
But I became your every breath!
So could I truly call it living
if I left you to certain death?
Blood is pouring from the suture.
These broken hearts we stitched together
bleed and stain our every future.
Who is to blame? We both knew change.
The children we were died in our arms
– the face in the mirror was strange.
This bond will break, so leave it be.
It was made for a different life,
and from that life we now are free.
I have no choices begging question
and no regret of either kind.
I knew the end one kiss could destine
for the friendship we left behind.
Years and miles lost to each other,
we soon lost our minds to lust that night.
But morning was painfully sober
as I watched you crawl back to the light.
It was so many years ago
– a life time for one as young as me.
But each day made the wonder grow,
and I will always want to know:
was my love a possibility?