If it wasn’t for

If it wasn’t for the way early light 
met me on the street that morning, 

or the way April rain’s fingers 
tapped lightly on my shoulder,

or how that warm mist and sudden sense 
seeped through to my very skin.

If it wasn’t for a voice familiar to my better self,
the one that snuck up and whispered, 

“Everyone is human,” and “
Everyone needs a second chance,” 

I’m not sure what I would have chosen,
what I would have done,

which dark or heavy tool 
I would have picked 

to pound vengeance 
into an already bleeding world. 

If it wasn’t for reminders.
If it wasn’t for a memory.

If it wasn’t for my mother.
If it wasn’t for.

-Katherine Gotthardt