A Constant In-Between

When we said that this would end,

nothing ever really ended,

and I wonder what would have happened

had you never made your way back to me;

if we had actually broken the cycle.

And I don’t think I believe in coincidence anymore, and

I’m not sure that I love you the way I did before,

but there’s something to be said

about how we keep coming back saying

“we’re different now than we were then.”

Maybe it was never love,

but more of an understanding or

some kind of unspoken agreement

because there were never any words to explain what we were,

only poems telling strangers what we never could be.

So we’ll keep running around in circles

like two kids in a schoolyard chasing each other

but never actually catching up to one another

until our legs become tired and we wonder

if it was ever even worth it, anyways.