The Myth

Turns out I’m one of those
who once believed the myth:
it mattered what you chose.
It mattered what you did.
The good would get the house,
a love that waits inside,
a car to move the kids,
another just to ride.
Another year is through,
the boy has disappeared.
I should have made more moves
in sheets and not careers.
I should have touched her skin.
And breathed into her hair.
She would have let me in.
I should have just not cared.