Letting it all sink in
dragging my shadow behind me
and existing between probable and possible
I don’t mind stepping into the great unknown
but an almost hello doesn’t count for much
and you know I hate living in the gray areas of maybe
wishing and hoping that in those moments of painful hesitation
something that looks like love might fall through
but this living in limbo is like living in hell
caught between a rock and a could’ve, would’ve, and should’ve
at least in hell you know you’re dead
here in the waiting room there’s no consolation for the living
every second feels like a lifetime
I swear that I’m betting on the real thing
but why do I always walk away with nothing
and like a fool I place my hopes in one basket
hoping a memory might save me
from going insane.