fine print

we have less
in commom

then you let on in our initial talks

how you long for solitude
in the depths of forests

why i cry at the moon
during early morning tides

the seperate
hours of a clock

the ticking working with the tocking

winding up
old emotions

to linger on
justified responses

avoiding long talks
to influence resolutions

that sound simillar
but are farther apart

until we’re too weak to agree

when we should have given up shortly after we began

why we gazed into each other’s eyes in the first place

the signs were there, we just chose to ignore them

for a chance to be better versions of our tired selves


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