If mornings weren't so bright;
If the moon weren't so beautiful;
If the youth of our lives would transcend
I'd be more compelled to you.
These harsh treatises I write in my heart
Are because I had not any idea.
I was blinded, and not by your love.
Indecision blocked from me that which I want most.
My own stupid indecision is now killing me.
Everyday, I see you, your smile, your eyes,
And I just remember.
I remember a time when loving you was simple, easy.
But all I have left now are shards.
Shards that I can't decipher.
Shards created by self-loathing.
Self-loathing birthed from regret.