13 January 2013
We could always act like the best of friends,
Eternally connected by something.
Untangible thoughts that our hearts would send,
Those unworded lines that silently sing.
Ever in denial, hiding feeling.
Convinced - I think - that we could stifle it,
To tear up the cards that Fate was dealing,
Too afraid to even imagine it.
We could gladly sit, shoulder to shoulder
Knowing that neither one of us would go,
Growing comfortable as we got older,
The road was winding, the journey was slow.
We had chosen to always stay like this,
Almost perfect, but with something amiss.
Almost • Opuss № I