you loosened your grip
let the blood run back
into your white knuckles
and you let it slip through your fingertips
you knew what you were doing
you told yourself it was for the best
you let yourself feel lonely
you needed time to rest
but now you're looking back
the past is always viewed
through the rose-colored glasses
that you wear upon your face
you long for what you once held dear
though you thought you had moved on
so take your glasses off
stare into your own reflection
remind yourself why you left it
because pedaling backwards
doesn't reverse your bicycle
it  only prevents you
from moving forward