I don't exist

where We come from.

you count your regrets

and number your days

below the surface,

below your skin,

where everything you fear

can't reach you

but those numbers

are the hidden cracks

and seams in your walls.

one day they'll topple

and we won't be there

to hold them up.

and what if everything happened,

the pain and the joy,

just so one moment could happen

that would make it all worth it

except that moment hasn't happened yet,

and you have no clue when it will be,

or if it will happen.

would you still want to take it all back?