If you cried me a river
I would walk on that water to get away.
Can’t you see my reflection through the waters
Because my face is also blinded by tears.
You say that you are not crying.
It is just the rain.
I said, out loud.
Rain does not just hit the face.
But sorrow does.
Regret does.
And the reason why we give flowers to patients
Lay a wreath down for the fallen.
Is because our need for regret must be satisfied.
While appreciation sits there hungry.
Because I did not cry a river.
I just used the water from my face to write your name in the sand.
And walked away.
At least my footprints will remain.
Until the river you cried washes them away.