i regret not telling you that i loved you
regret not saying it to you that day
i regret not telling you how i realized it
when i saw how the sunlight hit your face
as you turned it to beckon me to your side
pointing out the rainbows in the water
i regret not telling you how
i play the scene of me leading you to the woods in my mind
you gripping my hand and my shoulder
(or did i just imagine that)
as we stumbled down the hill and across
though none would come back to eat it
i regret not telling you i loved you
not that that would have made you say it back
and even if sometimes i wish i had said nothing at all
even if i wonder at night that if i had said nothing
would we have ended up kissing in your car
just like your aunt predicted
or would it have still turned out the same
you telling her you loved her
as i tried to hold myself together
something as futile as trying to bring that baby deer back
as trying to mend its bones
and breathe life into it again
if i had told you i loved you
would the baby deer have lived
or would it still be out there
drying its bones in the sun