Elucidating Questions

It’s that moment of being alone with another that you can’t quite simulate,

The moment that doesn’t end right and the feeling of it not being enough.

Even believing doesn’t make it feel right, when there’s no one else.

So if there could be someone, if, there could,

Who could live up to the standards of the songs,

Who could truly stand beside

When no one wants it

When no one needs it

When everyone turns away from it,

Who knows who it was who was part of it.

There’s no such thing as being alone when they watch everything.

All the words all link to the past.

Taking chances, with fate, with chances, never reached quite.

So who, where, and what and when.

Unknown.

And understood.

Unfortunate.

Where to direct when return to sender is sent elsewhere and returned to sender,

Who has no where else to send it?

Drifting off at sea.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter.

The song of the end of a love that doesn’t end.

After rebirth, does it start again?

If it’s been that long, the number of times this has repeated.

But I want to go far away if I’m forced to continue.

It doesn’t end, old enough to know that love doesn’t end

Old enough to know it grows painful as the lonely days add up and the median is no where near average,

Old enough to know that when you can’t get away from it it twists and twists and twists until

The magnets snap, no matter how much you wished.

Goodbye is not the end of love, it is the end of being strong enough to show it.

Putting it somewhere like a spider.

The spider loves only to live, and the world only wants to see life.

There’s two reactions to every action,

Perhaps spiders are dangerous, perhaps they scare me, perhaps they come running at me,

Who knows why?

Old enough to know the answer to every question,

Is time, who knows what the sense of it is,

And that the push and pull between following, waiting for, walking with, pushing against, and resenting

The times.

Old enough to know that concern for others means the pain of knowing they walked away without concern for you.

Sometimes the truth comes, and you wonder if it could be,

But still I think it’s at least part true.

It makes every step even harder,

The truth,

The weight of a heart held by one hand.

When it’s so heavy, the hand starts to shake and the fingers ache and the arm begins to hurt.

I want to drop it, into the hole, because I haven’t found the bottom yet, and coming back to the lip,

There’s still no one beside mine,

The greatest weapon anyone can wield.