would she have turned around—
would she have run the other direction—
would she have looked into the eyes she deemed
good and kind and honest
and, knowing all the pain ahead of her—
all the unkept promises;
all the lies;
all the nights of crying so hard her lungs would cry too;
all the mornings where she had to beg herself to get out of bed—
knowing all this,
I can’t help but wonder—
would she still have said hi
given you a chance
made up excuses for your lack of commitment
offered you her life—
would she still have decided it was worth it?