The distance that sets us apart
seems so vast when you compare
the distance of our hearts.
Meant to be?
Possibly, something I can see,
as if anything is ever a guarantee.
I find a void to fill the ache,
in the little things,
the little moments we share,
the words that always care.

I am not sure if I love
because of love.
Or simply,
because of who you have become,
always undone, never finished.

The world continues spin 'round,
as you continue to grow.
As the roots anchor themselves,
truth impedes the plot.  
But the distance we will be apart
cannot compare,
to the distance that once was
between our hearts.