The lines of communication are open, but there’s static on the call. Always static…and what was meant…in the words said…is missed. And what wasn’t said…the pause…the divide…is the loudest thing you’ve never heard. Words that used to interlock come up all edges.
It’s like, the best that it was casts this massive shadow over what it is. Both always pale in comparison to what it should be.
And it leaves, this confusion. Is the path being taken, just the shortest way to forever or the longest way to the end?
Always with the confusion.
(originally posted 10/4/2007: relatively the same girl woman, four years later…hurray for perpetual romanticism and those stupid rose-colored glasses)
