If only you could see me now,
could see the flashes in my eyes
like slashes deep in purple skies,
the golden streaks, the piercing cries
from cutting blades . . .
the new sunrise
You wouldn't have called me wasted.
You'd have stood up and you'd have faced it,
the storm that then erased it,
the care we started with.
But from your eyes once giddy
came eyes that burned whole cities
to the ground.
My world turned upside down.
Then left you did to find you'd rid
yourself of phoenix blood,
the stuff you left in ashes,
the stuff they call true love.
And now when I am coming out
renewing hope, doubting doubt,
I feel the flashes in my eye,
but this time birth can't make me cry.
I am the apple of my eye,
not you, not her, not girls plus guys.
I've unlearned romance, unlearned why.
If only you could see me now
back when our youth knew how.