Wisher

I wish it wasn't like this,
but wishing seems to be everything I do lately.
I don't even have strenght to smile,
I feel like I'm falling to pieces,
and the mirror confirms it.
I wish this had never happened,
I wish I could still call you mine.
I know I'm a fool.
But I don't even give a shit about it anymore.
All I know is that
wishing isn't enough.
Wishing has no paths,
no roads,
all it meets is dead-ends,
dead-ends.
Wishing couldn't bring you back,
couldn't fix this,
could never mend my broken heart.
And I'm afraid,
oh,
I'm so afraid...
that neither can I.
I'm so afraid.
And it hurts.
It hurts to feel all this pain,
it's driving me insane.
The best part is I don't need it,
I just want it.
And I'm so scared
it's not in me to bring you back.
And maybe a small part of me acknowledges
it's not in me.
But another part beats it,
a big part of me, in me.
Because I have faith,
if only a little,
the smallest amount of it.
Because I want it to be in me.
I'll force it if I must.
Because even if I don't get to call you mine again,
I don't think I even care if I never call you mine again.
All I know is
this isn't the way I want the story to end.
And I'll do everything, perhaps anything
to change the ending.