If it were up to me

If it were up to me I think you’d see what I see.
If love were less grainy I would shape it like sand, using my hand,
If your eyes were less green and your tone less mean, I think I’d have a stance
To love whole-heartedly, look away from the chance, this dismal happenstance.

If I were a poet I would bleed as I write.
If truth was an answer, Id be free to be me now in the moment and for a life,
If your words were less loaded and your smile less fake, I’d believe.
Your actions and your heart, contradiction in parallels making it easy for me to deceive.

If only ends didn’t really begin, and what was stayed the same
If wanting and needing could live as one in unified satisfaction, if there was no attraction,
If your hands that used to touch the naked space between my hips and navel
It is the path of mourning souls in denial, that’s what makes him able.

And so we trample on…pieces of heart, emotional strings and idea’s of self in the wake
We make no time for sweet justice or compromising slides, we trudge through to be through…and like waves of life and sadness the erosion begins, leaving traces of where the tide used to be, where the love and laughter used to reach..the limits the heights and we sink the eyes, bow the chin and push on…

..if it were up to me I think you’d see what I see…you see all of it, and all of me.