Black and White and Old Film Grain

i want it more
now it’s gone
isn’t that just how it goes?

in black and white
and old film grain
i see moments missed in real time

why couldn’t i feel this pull
when it was accessible?
stayed in bed, ceased every moment
pushed further, been less afraid of consequence

why couldn’t i have seen what was 
right in front of me and 
not turned away to blush?

next time
i promise myself
next time it’s going to be so 
fucking sweet

when he holds my hand
i won’t let go out of fear he doesn’t mean it
and be the first to go

next time
i’ll be brave and present
and focused in, counting backwards
to: a g a i n again.