It's Not True

Should I decide it’s true? That you might leave if given half the chance to go and I be left here on my own, to find myself in bed, wishing everything that changed would be the same.

Room still looks like you, it’s so nice and all the pictures on the shelf, dusted off by someone else, to keep me company, having told her that your thoughts still linger on.

Everyday is another chance to bury my regret. Everyday is another chance to make it, but I can’t, but I can’t, but I can’t.

I saw you on my phone, on a contact list that isn’t up to date, would’ve changed it with more time, I required to. In my mind with all the freckles on your face. I reconciled with you’re ring I bought you is buried deep within the ground, behind the swing where we first met, a memory on this earth to remind of all the bruises that you forgave.

Everyday is another chance to bury my regret. Everyday is another chance to make it, but I can’t, but I can’t, but I can’t.

Should I decide it’s true, to return if given half the chance to go? And it’s not true, but it’s not true.