don’t think me unaware
of my missteps over
the years.
(thirteen of them, but
who’s counting?)

at night i count them
instead of sheep,
our words my white noise
blocking out the world.

it could have been so
easy,
so many chances to
offer chances.

too easy to make you feel
that you didn’t matter.
too easy to stop you knowing
how important you were (are)
too easy to wrap up every bit of information
for myself.

too easy to want to offer you
a chance;
too easy to want to take the
chances you offered.

(wanting was always easier than doing
and yet in doing it could have been
so easy)

you always had your chance...

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