Wanting to find an answer to an unknown question,
I stepped into the dark night of my thoughts looking for clarity,
But the moon was dim and my legs were slow,
I need to face my hesitation and run,
Run to that forgotten place.

I ran through the shattered mirror of my past to look at yours,
Reflecting the echos of familiar off the edges of broken shards,
I saw my own heartbreak in your forgotten love songs,
Your broken guitar strings and missing piano keys.

And oh how you did remind me of a ghost that haunted me,
And I dug through each line hungrily,
Though my fingers did prick with every handful of words,
I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop, sifting.

The more I dug, the more I read,
The more I felt I was viewing the other half of me,
The half that I had lost in the long ago and far away.

Each salty tear on my pricked fingers – painful,
As I forced myself to keep looking at what I lost,
Through the eyes of someone else.

I left my bloody fingerprints on the shadow of your past,
The part of you I wish the hidden part of me could meet,
The part of you I knew the lost part of me could love,
The part of you the heartbroken me of the past wanted to revive.

With the wisp of a melody from a ghost I had buried,
I held your fragile past in my fingers though it cut me,
And pressed them to my bruised heart and I cried out,
“Dear God, let me help him!
Let me sooth the stormy nights with my cold hands,
Let me sit beside him for the rest of time,
Let me be home to him as he is to me…”

I would give my many years of wandering,
Of trying to make sense of a loss to forget,
To turn back the clock a decade and a half,
And find you somehow,
That neither of us would need to wander for any amount of time.