I used to grow flowers.
Pretty little petals
Sprouted from letters.
Into pretty little paragraphs
Sprouted from words.

Now I only grow lonely.
Ugly little concepts
Sprouted from doubts
Into fetid thoughts
Sprouted from desolation.

Spending
Every
Weekday
Infusing
Needled
Gossamer.

In
Thread,

Un­ambiguous
Pleasure.

Suddenly,
Love
Eternal
Is
Gone,
Halfway
Through.

Old
Feelings,

Haphazardly
Abandoned,
Never
Die.

I
Never

Had
Another
New
Day.

Can you really make things new?
Polish, tack and glue
All the faults and cracks in you
All the hurt that you accrued?

Can you erase all the dues:
All the debt that you renew
Every time that you debut
The habits that you subdue?

Can you go back in time?
Stop your life and press rewind,
Use a moment just to find
The instant you changed your mind?

I don't want to take it back.
I want you where you're at...
So if we ever break again
We know how to fill the cracks.

I'm an inch away from giving up.

An inch past it, to be precise.