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