over it

[human_montage]

it's come to this:
where i can only see you
through a splintered lens
a blur that i catch
from the corner of my eye
picture: smile on a beach far away
and a crack in the glass
from when my old smiling face
met my new clenched fists.
and this is what they meant
when they said you can't go home again.
because every street that could lead you 'home'
is lined with the ghosts of everything
that you will never see again.
i wonder if it's easier
being the one who threw it away
to drop a hand and run fast
heart skipping beats. lungs skipping breath.
i wonder if i will line your streets
when you look back
i wonder if you ever will.