Did I ever love you as much as I miss you?
Is your absence the source of my pain?
Or am I just weak and my heart insists to
Resurrect you again and again?
Are there secrets yet to discover
Only because of the misery I’ve felt
Until I’m too old to recover
And too selfish to forgive myself?
Our lives should be written in pencils
That we might erase and start over again
But would I choose a beginning more gentle
Or only change the way that it ends?
Would I invite you to be with me
Or erase the day that we met
Or stay lost in the depths of self pity
About you and this sense of regret