Thinking (What to Say)

I'm sitting here thinking there's something I meant to say, but didn't yet.

That I ought to, but can't. That I am not who I presumed myself as.

Just a teardrop of blue at the heart of the flame. Just a crumpled piece of paper that wanted to be a page.

I'm sitting here now with everything behind me and nothing ahead. And I wonder. I wonder what's next.

Just silver plated dreams that turn my heart green. Just a lifetime of poetry. And all those reasons. All those reasons it was written.