If only, if only

it's always been
a serious assignment,
self-inflicted

one of analyzing,
the loose pieces
thrown, scattered;
the puzzle of us

mistaken shapes
that seemed to fit
then didn't

others so quickly
perfect, like
a promise we might
still solve things

unable to see
what was right
in front of us,
words might have
saved us all

empathy sits
at another table,
begs to be asked;
patient, true