the mountain state and ownership and value - part ii

when I said I had no idea what I wanted,
I meant it.
I saw you run across the stream and couldn't catch you,
maybe I didn't want to,
but you did ran away.
those are the seconds where I wished time didn't pass,
that there was no way around the unknown,
nobody could take from me what's mine.
you were never mine, I guess,
somebody else's girl,
someone else's spirit to be possessed by.
it is now the core soft center of my heart that is turning rock solid,
like I opened the wrong door in my heart:
letting you in was not the mistake of a lifetime,
it was just a way of seeing heartbreak through a different lens.

I surely do hope you're well,
wherever it is you went to,
running through the forest barefoot,
striking a fire,
falling asleep on the moss.

it is your responsibility now
to only understand
what has been of my heart,
if you are willing to listen to the gush of wind through the trees.

I'm sleeping inside of myself,
curiously hoping
I'll wake up to find
time has not passed,
I have not aged,
and this meant nothing.

                                       (as if that had ever been a possibility.)