Just as time will fade the paint on the corners of the front steps, chip the glass on the coffee cup, Slowly dry the ink in the pen, slowly age the man.
It will slowly chip away at love.
Tough words or tired bodies when we were young, we used to say everyone else just settles….
Now we barely talk anymore
Somehow we don’t even look at each other and it’s just okay.
For days on end we pass each other without anything other than a silent resentment.
When do you know you’re reading from a script that’s killed you off?
Occupying a movie set that’s packed and left…
Does her mind know, or is it her heart?
Does he know? Or is he so far removed that he believes everything is fine
At status quo
What’s the point of signaling a flare
You’re like two ghosts haunting the same house in different centuries
There’s nothing here anymore
It’s all cold
It’s all empty
And no one knows why..
Any cold drafts are blamed on the weather…