I fell in love with a possibility, yet nothing was possible

I hate it every time the feelings find you
before your words
And then, after two years, one minute, five hours, or whenever they bother showing up,
it's like your heart and your stomach just sits there
saying "we told you so"
and you hate them for speaking so clearly
whilst you refused to

It was Sunday and you asked me to stay but I never meant to linger here for so long, so I pulled back, retreating from my line you tried to cross

Smiling, so you wouldn't taste the hesitation on my lips,
talking louder to hide my hasty breath,
giving you sweet promises of nothing, pouring it out like syrup on those pancakes I never stayed for

And I don't think I've ever needed Monday as much as when I walked home, self-starved, carrying all my weight and bricks with my sticky fingers

You, trying to convince me i was hard to love, when i drip of sun and sweet magic

Do you also think we could have been? Like been for real, full on.

Like that time you couldn't stop listening to my heart or those evenings when you snuck out just to say hi or those million of nights when we just didn't want to hang up.

Like imagine if those moments could have lasted longer, if we could have lasted longer. If life actually had let us.

I do think so. That we could have been. Real, full on, the thing that really mattered. Just us.

Now you still matter, it's just that we're nothing.

Life disturbs my dreams

Or is it the opposite? I don't even know anymore

I have no sorrow, still it takes up so much space in my heart today