You can go back to the beginning,
unsay the words,
walk the same path
as if you never left it.

You can hold your breath,
stay silent until the storm forgets
your name,
pretend it never happened.

But the past
sits at the table,
quiet in every room,
settled
but unmoved.

You can undo anything
except the past.

It looks at you
without judgement,
but with everything
you'd rather forget.