There’s a turmoil resting inside
that the change wouldn’t fix
like a deep settlement
like a deep un-settlement
like a realization of what would be, could be,
is on a parallel timeline that I missed out on
dodged by one millisecond decision
opened a window into another world
here all my choices are different
do I regret them over and over again
am I stuck in a loop of my own thoughts,
guts spilling out my mouth trying to take them all back
trying to take them all back
trying to take them all back.
All my sorry’s have been accidents
I’m sorry that they were accidents.
Slipped up, foot sliding on ice,
boot heel picking up, toe toward the sky,
skidding to my end.
Here I’m stuck in the loop again.
Do you miss me? Did you miss me?
Was every sorry really a mistake.
Is a mistake the same as an accident.
Don’t you love me?
Don’t you at all?