too late

i found a book i used to write my dreams in
my hopes from twenty years ago
all forgotten until i flipped open the pages
and found myself gazing at a woman i used to know.

she dreamed of rock climbing and traveling
to Paris, the Brontë sisters’ moors, and Rome,
she dreamed of a cottage on a hill blanketed in fresh snow,
wishing one day she’d have a beautiful home of her own.

she dreamed of time slowing down for a kiss from her beloved
his ring around her finger glittering in the sunlight
she dreamed all these things and more
until reality swallowed every single hope in one bite

i should return the book on the shelf and pretend i never found it
for it’s too late for me to dream such silly things,
but she pressed the book to my breast and whispered,
it’s never too late to live the life you still believe in.


i feel your pain (i really do) for i have felt it too
just when you thought
you met someone who truly cared,
you found out too late
they were never really there

so let those tears flow (it’s okay)
hold your own and let the hurt go
for we both know that even this
will not last forever
and you’re stronger than you know