Make Your Move

My forest: moonlit;
Enough to find my way around,
Too dim to be able to read.
Why must it be this way?

I swear I caught you staring at me.
I saw the look in your eyes.
I saw it in your face:
The memories I want to erase
From this thing called "life".

Regrets? Honestly, I have a few.
But I don't wish to call them mistakes.
I refuse to believe that I mistook
You for a fragile, fervent, fucker.
I refuse to believe that God has led me
Down this winding, dirt road as a joke
To mock and humiliate my weaknesses.

I refuse to believe that I'm the only one at fault for the blaring silence.