I want to call,
back through time,
talk when we were still friends,
warn you of the end,
and say I am sorry.
I want to hear your voice
and know you are happy,
ask how you are,
when I know you are well,
want to hear how your life has been
without me,
want to say, If you ever need anything…
a promise often made,
and one I fear broken.
I want to call,
but it would be now,
and I know this conversation.
You’ll tell me of him and recent betrayal.
And I’ll imagine you in his arms and say,
You could have done better.
You could have always done better.
Forgiveness is offered,
and if forgiveness needed I ask it,
but you are no longer the woman
I once knew.
And though it never feels this way,
I am better without you.
I will never call.
