Garden of Irises

On a carved bench

in a garden on irises

I sat down beside you.

I told you all of the secrets

that have been eating me alive

since that last July.

I should have called back.

I should have been there.

You were more important.

I never got to say a last goodbye.

 

And they can say I had no way to know

that I’d never see you again,

but some part of me knew.

When you looked into my eyes,

and when you took my hand.

And that’s the hardest part about it all.

I knew you were afraid,

and I was, too.

 

And I can tell myself

it wouldn’t have mattered.

Even if I’d been there,

you still wouldn’t be here.

But it still hurts.

 

And I’m sorry,

more so than you’ll ever know.

But I can’t do this anymore.

I can’t carry it with me any longer.

So, I’m giving it to you.

Pleaes take it back with you.

Please set me free from it,

before the weight of it crushes me.

 

So, here on this carved bench

in the middle of this garden of irises,

you take my hand one last time.

And one last time I look into your blue eyes.

 

I may never be ready to let you go.

My heart may never be as full as it once was.

But I’m ready to let go

of the secrets that have been eating me alive.

I know you forgave me a long time ago,

 

and now I forgive me too.