dear april blues, im the only fool

what would you do if you could go back in time? i think about it only because im guilty. i try not to process anything else, anything truer. every quiet reminder of i love you (or dont). i cannot meet your gaze, i cannot stare at the blood on my shoes, so what am i supposed to do? friends who are stars, friends who are black holes—they all burn up (or burn out). maybe next time will be different. maybe third times the charm. what would you do if you could go back in time? in the end, you can only think about yourself. i wish you were that selfish. i hate that ive only seen you smile during your worst moments—thats something ill never understand, always wish i did. confessions, wishes, apologies. its all the same. what would you do if you could go back in time?

i dont know, no matter how many times i run through it in my head. maybe i was never meant to save this.