I wonder what it is like
on the other side of the earth.
I had a dream that you were a baby
that died in your crib.
I turned back time
and you grew up into a strong young man.
I knew that I couldn’t save you forever
but I tried.
I tried.
Why does it still feel like
you just haven’t come home yet?
This lingering feeling in the background
that you will come back.
If I wait long enough
you will come back.
If I try hard enough
you will come back.
If I ask nice enough
you will come back.
If it hurts bad enough
you will come back.
A smarter man than me once said:
everything real is happening in this moment
and everything else is just a story
that you tell yourself.
I want to start this story over.
I want to believe that it could have had
a different ending.