There was a time when the thirst was nearly unquenchable.
Now we lie awake in separate rooms each morning
As if we’re avoiding each other-
Or the truth.
There was a time when we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves
Now we awkwardly hold hands.
There was a time when it was all so perfect
That I couldn’t come up with the words.
Now they pour from my fingertips
Like I am spraying the fire.
But I don’t want to put out that fire.
These days are just a phase.
I keep telling myself.
It’s just a season. A season for… everything.
It’s hard to explain when there is
so much good in your life
But you feel so alone
The Not-quite emptiness.
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