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Not Too Late
July 18, 2016
I've watched the grass
turn into glass,
seen the sand melt into stone.
I see your cold heart
and it tears me apart
worse than anything I've ever known.
And sometimes I think
we're on the brink,
the line between free and fall.
But the tide's coming in
and you've chosen your sin,
you lost when you risked it all.
I wish you'd believed in something,
some light too tiny to see.
I wish you'd believed in something,
I wish you'd believed in me.
© Jaci S., Duluth, GA
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