Poetry

The Drying Ink

What if
You never said what you said to me
To break my heart into one hundred million
Little pieces
What if you could
Undo the everything that crossed the line?
Just rewind time.

What if we never had to ask
What if this and what if that
Wouldn’t it be easier to know
If you should cut him off and let him go
Or hand him the keys to yodur5 hearts front door

I keep these what ifs in a cage
Free from growing, free from escape
Because it is not fair nor just
To be forced to make a hard decision more than once
Once again, and another once
A daily dose of self justification
Taken intravenously, by injection
Yet it never seems to reach its final destination.
Bypassing my heart and sense of morality
Checkhovs gun, smoking and revolving
Hitting my common sense on the nose
As powerful as a water hose
“This is not who you are
Or who you will ever choose to be
Pick your happiness and your agency”.
It’s like a bucket of cold water over your head
Washing away an irrational decision.
Clear vision.

What if
I took all of your manipulative views at
face value.
What if
I suffocated my screaming heart
To become your missing part?

What if the girl On that path
Is also asking
What if this and what if that
It wouldn’t be fair nor just
To think a about anything agonizing more than once.
At least now I know
I didn’t leave me in the dust.
Because the pens are only lifted once.

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