old pictures showing my tracks through the heart
stabbing reminders of past joy scattered over an unmade bed
the bed begs to be made so i fix the sheets
later i'm walking in a garden that is not mine
here i can see to the heights all the possible paths i might take
some trails are good some are bad
it is the choices at the start of a new journey that are bright
but otherwise there are things you cannot know
who is burdened with more than what they can carry
------
For Mel
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