shall i go back to the beginning
of when i first found you?
it was raining, and silence
—the silence is so thick
it took me a while to realize
you left.

i should have realized it then,
that instead of bridging the gaps
you left behind, to make it seem
as if you were not gone at all
—i should have returned
to the beginning
and held your hands
before you could go.

because i have stayed
too long at the shore
—perhaps a little too long—
until you were a dot on the horizon,
a flicker in the image
of what i knew love to be.

and i lived to tell the tale
of how i went to war
with my tears
my scarred heart
and my toils to spare.

i found a heart so pure
at the end of the rainbow,
a promise at the end
of the uncertainty,
and a secret to hold
until i go home
for the evening.

if i bring back the beginning
—these we would find:
the senseless words of faith,
belief, the lies we tell ourselves
—and we held on
because if we don't,
then it's better to have sunk,
and air to have never filled our lungs

that's what i've been saying, love
—that without you,
i might just go
back to the beginning
of my lonely existence,
of looking at the stars
and wishing there was a path
for me to take to where
i will be happy.

and love, i do not look
for plans of old
and vows to make
to the living.
in a sea of thousands
of souls willing to die
for all you hold dear—
i found you,
and you found me,
waiting for us to go
back to the beginning
to see that i was the one for you,
and maybe, you are
the one for me too.