Some nights, you are just a figment of my imagination. A figure inside my head.
Other nights, most sad-nights, I see you in people, I hear you in a song, and I
feel you in the wind, as I look at the empty sky.
Some nights, I wonder what went wrong? What separated us into you and I. Two individuals. Once a straight line, and now parallel to each other. Never going to end up, ever.
Some nights, I write to you, hoping you still read my words, and not scroll down reading my name. I wonder if it almost moves you from the inside, because it moves me, almost. Wonder if you know these are just not fiction, but for you.
Some nights, I wonder, if Almost would suffice? If we just settled for...the need? Wouldn’t that work out?
Some nights, I just want to give up. To be gone. To be left alone. To set my demons free. Isn’t that a good vision? Being myself for once?But I know, nights are short, and days are where I have to often be. So some nights, I just think about some days, and be uncertain, yet again.
Some nights, I wonder what went wrong? What separated us into you and I. Two individuals. Once a straight line, and now parallel to each other. Never going to end up, ever.
Some nights, I write to you, hoping you still read my words, and not scroll down reading my name. I wonder if it almost moves you from the inside, because it moves me, almost. Wonder if you know these are just not fiction, but for you.
Some nights, I wonder, if Almost would suffice? If we just settled for...the need? Wouldn’t that work out?
Some nights, I just want to give up. To be gone. To be left alone. To set my demons free. Isn’t that a good vision? Being myself for once?But I know, nights are short, and days are where I have to often be. So some nights, I just think about some days, and be uncertain, yet again.
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