and i think we sway
by the way of the lights
the dim glow reflecting off tired walls
and i turn toward the things we leave on dressers
rings, receipts, half-empty glasses
little proofs we were here
half past midnight
when everything honest finally starts to surface
we stay inside these moments
sometimes a little too long
stretching seconds into something heavier
and i find you here
wrapped in shades of blue
the quiet kind of sadness
that sits softly on the skin
the way we grip at each other
without ever fully touching
i find the details of this
deeper than sadness itself
we blend into these hours
where night feels longer than it should
where clocks drag their hands slowly
and every passing minute
seems to hold onto us tighter
and i sway a little more one-sided
trying to carry the weight of both of us
trying to convince myself
that imbalance can still feel right
to touch the ground
beyond the grass where i first found this
the pavement blocks and concrete walls
become something we fixate on
like ordinary things can save us
if we stare at them long enough
we make ourselves believe
we still are what we were
and i say i can
even when i know i can’t
blurring everything together
just to feel some version of something
instead of nothing at all
i’m dancing across these lines
the cracks in the sidewalk
morning mist without the sun
windows slowly fogging over
our reflections disappearing inside condensation
we know exactly where we are
yet somehow still feel lost
left from right
wrong from right
spinning on cold bathroom tiles
where chaos always seems
to pull the truest versions of ourselves out into the open
and i whisper in your ear
do you promise?
but you can’t
and i tell myself that’s fine
because what else do you do
when someone wants to protect you
but doesn’t know how to stay
these are the moments we remember
the touch
the pause between words
our bodies blurring together in dim rooms
mist gathering on windows
cracked screens glowing faintly in the dark
while our breath slowly builds against the glass
there we sit
ten feet apart
close enough to touch
yet impossibly far away
a table between us
a chair turned slightly sideways
and i tell you things
while feeling you drift further and further
from where i once had you
back when time moved differently
back when clocks sounded softer
and endings didn’t feel so close
restless turns
a touchless grasp
eyes far gone
yet somehow painfully clear
i see you
i really do
i know you’re afraid
and i wish i could explain
how everything would eventually soften
how not every beautiful thing
has to disappear
how sometimes people survive
the things they thought would destroy them
and how maybe
we could have too