What of a world where I did not have her at my fingertips? A world of only silence, and thoughts, and aches, and memories. What of the final ending touch of the final moment of the final sleeping near? Or when her name flickers over the electric face of my screen for the last time? Or mine on hers.
End, comma, The.
Realizing this of every meeting destroys me. Each parting is a likely to be the last as any other before or after. 'If I could hold her once more--just once.' How the sad songstory goes... every story. Yet how differently I would cherish her. How long I would linger...
The things I said - that I said I wouldn't say.
The last phrase never the one we wanted it to be.
The last glance so short, so scared, so broken.
The embers in her tear stained eyes flicker
out of existence right before me, because I didn't watch the fire...
What if I'd known? What if I had acted like I had known? What if I always spoke as thought the next meeting will never be? Acting on the belief in the possibility that this is all we have... how then would we live? We who are the walking dead.
End, comma, The.
Realizing this of every meeting destroys me. Each parting is a likely to be the last as any other before or after. 'If I could hold her once more--just once.' How the sad songstory goes... every story. Yet how differently I would cherish her. How long I would linger...
The things I said - that I said I wouldn't say.
The last phrase never the one we wanted it to be.
The last glance so short, so scared, so broken.
The embers in her tear stained eyes flicker
out of existence right before me, because I didn't watch the fire...
What if I'd known? What if I had acted like I had known? What if I always spoke as thought the next meeting will never be? Acting on the belief in the possibility that this is all we have... how then would we live? We who are the walking dead.
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