Maybe next time you'll be raised right,
and I’ll be able to do things the right way.
More hours spent on togetherness,
less time secluded in the next room.
The fireworks stay amongst the stars,
not falling, and burning my skin.
Maybe I won’t wish for a lobotomy,
and your words won’t bulldoze but dance.
I’ll lay here afraid of sleep–
ending a good day is hard
when you don’t know what tomorrow brings.
And I don’t know if I’ll be washing dishes,
or throwing them.
Maybe next time when we reach the fork in the road,
we could walk the same path
instead of trying to hold hands through highway dividers.
At least maybe next life that we meet,
we’ll be brave and end the cycle.
Red flags won’t be quilted on our beds,
missed opportunities not replayed in our heads,
just lessons learned and love not given.
And maybe, just maybe, we’ll meet with open hands–
not ones still shaking from the past.
No apologies rehearsed, no silence to break,
just peace that finally lasts.
Oct 23, 2025
Oct 23, 2025 at 7:37 PM UTC
Maybe next time you'll be raised right,
and I’ll be able to do things the right way.
More hours spent on togetherness,
less time secluded in the next room.
The fireworks stay amongst the stars,
not falling, and burning my skin.
Maybe I won’t wish for a lobotomy,
and your words won’t bulldoze but dance.
I’ll lay here afraid of sleep–
ending a good day is hard
when you don’t know what tomorrow brings.
And I don’t know if I’ll be washing dishes,
or throwing them.
Maybe next time when we reach the fork in the road,
we could walk the same path
instead of trying to hold hands through highway dividers.
At least maybe next life that we meet,
we’ll be brave and end the cycle.
Red flags won’t be quilted on our beds,
missed opportunities not replayed in our heads,
just lessons learned and love not given.
And maybe, just maybe, we’ll meet with open hands–
not ones still shaking from the past.
No apologies rehearsed, no silence to break,
just peace that finally lasts.
But this time? I guess we'll struggle
