Echoes and Echoes

White tipped mornings

Painted deep in summer's warm regret

Shadowed lights off small mountains

Cherry blossoms under a ferris wheel

unoccupied, resting for tomorrow's 

hopes and dreams. I can't look.

My heart constantly hurts thinking

what I gave away to be back

to be here. What am I trying

to again build, that I built in 

three years, summer bloom and 

the person I was. I hate myself for 

wishing, and I hate myself for not