So I Take a Saw to the Branch I am Sitting On
Regret has made a home of my frail shoulders.
Living there for you,
It aches often.
Reminding me of where you once sat across from me,
No weight on my shoulders with you there,
And telling me often of how foolish I was with you.
I hope they give you more,
More than what I offer you.
In my mind, I offer you nothing but endless evenings under sunsets;
Waking early the next morning to watch you rise.
In my mind I also ache.
I ache so deeply with muted static, love.
Which is no good for you, love.
So I take a saw to the branch I am sitting on.
I need not you aching in the mirror of me.
- Samantha Convey