Have you ever sat in a room with someone
Knowing beyond any shadow of a doubt
That you’re sitting alone
And no amount of small talk, or discussion
Will change the fact that you’re both firmly ensconced
In a reality that can’t even be imagined in another world
At first it aches, the slow tearing of emotion
In long thin strips, like a piece of paper
Slowly destroyed by bored hands in a classroom,
Just waiting for the bell
Every interaction becomes a small game
Of who will care first
Care enough to leave, to put to rest the tired debate
Of why we’re here
The game just doesn’t end though
Always ambling back, refusing to accept
That earth and pluto only know each other in passing
A small wave to acknowledge the distance
With full understanding that
To meet
Is to invite the end of something precious
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 8:46 PM UTC
Have you ever sat in a room with someone
Knowing beyond any shadow of a doubt
That you’re sitting alone
And no amount of small talk, or discussion
Will change the fact that you’re both firmly ensconced
In a reality that can’t even be imagined in another world
At first it aches, the slow tearing of emotion
In long thin strips, like a piece of paper
Slowly destroyed by bored hands in a classroom,
Just waiting for the bell
Every interaction becomes a small game
Of who will care first
Care enough to leave, to put to rest the tired debate
Of why we’re here
The game just doesn’t end though
Always ambling back, refusing to accept
That earth and pluto only know each other in passing
A small wave to acknowledge the distance
With full understanding that
To meet
Is to invite the end of something precious
