And all your left with is the cold hard steel
Rain's picking up and they should be rusting soon.
I'd help but I'm every bit as broken as you.
My words ricochet and reverberate.
No more escapable than the past.
Because despite what I do, I cling to it dearly.
Holding it as the one distinction between me and them.
Before, I saw people as pools
With a never ending depth and beauty
But now they're all just puddles
Great for a splash then they're gone.
People always say that if they could go back, they'd do things differently.
But I think they're wrong.
I don't think the option exists.
Rather, when presented with the same situation, I seem to have become locked into old decisions.
My new life permeated by the old one.
But now all I can see is their face.
Broken because of the path I took and am stuck on now.
But now they look quite different now.
Maybe that's enough to hope that the outcome will somehow be different.
While my thoughts used to flow out, smooth and meaningful
They seem to have changed into this pattern of hitting me in fragments
Her face, his face, my decision, her, my guilt, my secret, their judgement, my pain, and the time before all of that.
My blog seems no more immune than my thoughts.
New purpose?
Ha
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