If I Return

You go away and you consider never coming back.

You find new people and a new you,

These familiar habits,

And stand on the side of a stream,

Watching paper lanterns that hold promises

And well wishes

And you wonder if maybe this is the moment,

To put the world down,

To stop carrying it on your shoulders.

Past me,

Sometimes I think about you like a little sister,

Or like a toy that was played with too roughly.

Like a secret garden.

Like a star that already imploded.

But little me,

Those thorns you grew are not needed.

That night in October did not break you.

Yet again,

You took fate and chance and every uncertainty,

And built yourself a new prophecy.

Looked god in the eyes,

Stood on firmer ground and said,

"No,

This is my brave new world.

This is my unbecoming.

And this is my rebirth too."