if circumstances were different, how would it be?

fingers, they scrape upon the bottomless and infinite airways.
loopholes, to find an opposite of an empty blank.
on straight and twisted, deep and above
finding out, dealing on what to let go.

what tangible thing the heart is,
on the surface.
underneath such mystery provoke,
when in thought.

chances are long gone
and time lost into oceans under the sun
still my heart breaks
my eyes no stranger to being awake

to imagine,
to ponder,
to succumb,


what was once almost.