The Creases That Hold Us (poem-echo ft Gary L Taylor)

If we could start over, would we really change everything? A poem about presence, regret, and the quiet details that hold a relationship together.

There are moments where we look back— not to rewrite the story, but to feel where we were not fully there. And in that quiet recognition, something shifts.

Not the past. But the way we hold it.

This week’s Poem-Echo by Gary L Taylor lingers in that space— between regret and gratitude, between what we would soften… and what we would keep exactly as it is.

I’ll leave you with the poem.

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If we started out again,
what would I change?
To rebuild from the beginning
what would really need adjusting?
 
Is to say 'not much really'
too clichéd, too easy?
 
A blueprint, sketched-out
would only have the goal
of bringing us back to the now.
 
Perhaps the initial meetings,
could be less clandestine,
not dictated by worries of what 
people thought of the idea of 'us'
 
so soon after prior relationships
had reached their ends.
 
Just to sit easier with it,
in those early days,
and to ease a tightness of chest
brought from needing to stay shadowed.
 
If we started again, the blueprint
would direct me to sobriety sooner.
allowing me to show up more fully,
instead of governed by ghosts and spirits.
 
That in itself, would remove the only lies
spoken from what we have.
 
They were spoken by me.
Was I in meetings,
catching up with old friends?
 
Truth was, the only friends I was
meeting, were in cans and bottles,
often in dark places,
in more than one way.
 
So that’s a fix I’d make more readily,
erasing time where I was far from attentive.
Instead of having years rot away
as I lived in them, more attentive
 
to booze than to you.
 
Nearly bringing about our end,
alienating my family.
 
I’d like to attend the gigs and events
free from that. To take them in more,
rather than a constant back and forth to the bar.
 
Make those moments the truly
shared ones that they should be.
 
A restart, would allow me to paint over
that black, with colour.
 
I think that we’ve dealt with the unexpected well.
Nothing more so than being told
Neither of you can have kids,
only for pregnancy to bloom.
 
I’d love to ease the stress from that time.
Maybe not need to welcome our daughter,
change jobs and buy a house
within six months….
 
….whilst battling the worst of my addiction.
 
I would love to give it all more space
to breathe so there was more enjoyment
and so that I may have been more present.
 
There to listen more, to notice all that I missed
whilst I was busy wondering, if I had beer in the fridge,
or if the pub was still open.
 
There is some small stuff that I’d change.
Maybe the midwife at the hospital
could be one seemingly not hell-bent
on appearing to be an embodiment of
 
crazed Eastern-European stereotypes
of wanting to inflict fear and pain,
to make that process more enjoyable.
 
There is much though, that I wouldn’t change.
 
Anything to do with life with our daughter
can stay just as it is.
 
I wouldn’t change the little quirks,
even those tiny, small things,
that cause us both minor annoyance.
A fleeting irritant, not long-lasting hurt.
 
You never finish a hot drink I make,
leave glasses on the kitchen counter,
whereas I would wash them straight away.
 
I can’t find things, even if right in front of me,
or forget what you’ve said, sometimes only
if moments before.
 
Those are the types of creases
that do not need ironing out.
 
If anything, they are necessary.
 
For once those creases are folded.
they stay in place, held by something invisible,
as do we.

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Mirror Question

If you could begin again— not with a different person, but as a different version of yourself…
what would you finally do differently?

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About the Author — Gary L. Taylor

Gary L. Taylor is a writer who brings together two worlds: music and poetry. He shares thoughtful reflections on independent artists and albums, often tied to personal experience, alongside poems that explore memory, family, and the quiet weight of everyday life.

If you enjoy discovering music through a personal lens, or reading poetry that feels lived rather than polished, his work offers something steady and real. And since everything is freely accessible, it’s an easy space to step into — and return to, at your own rhythm.

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With clarity,
The Mirror Room
Odel A.