The Wrinkles on our Faces

No matter how I paint it
or how many times I lie to myself
she's a thousand miles away
in another's arms
raising the children
that should have been mine.

It's sad
to think of how we loved one another
only to end up like this.
You playing a part
pretending to enjoy
the words that I utter
as one drowns in remorse
that I didn't stay in your warmth
when there was nothing but cold
to come back here to.

Now it's too late,
a decade has passed
since that fateful day
when we first crossed paths
on a web spun foyer
meant for just you and I.

Now we are older
we thread carefully each step
weary from the backhands
that have come our way.
It's not your fault,
nor is it mine.
Sometimes people simply lie.

Once in a past life
we held each other close
loved one another
in your arms my repose.
Now lifetimes later
we find each other again
only to miss one another
by the hair of our necks.

It's been nice to know you
and hear your voice again,
just remember
my ethereal lips
kiss yours every day.
Maybe next life,
though this one seems to be it,
though we may never know
what was meant as our bliss.