It's always the same... The same conversations... The same responses... A play we've rehearsed a thousand times... A script that we've memorized the lines to...
"How have you been...?"
"I'm doing fine." As I force a smile, a laugh, anything to make you believe it's true...
You tell me about your life. I offer my advice... But that's as far as it goes... That's as far as it ever goes, and I've made my peace with that... It never changes...
Just like the way I feel has never changed... But as humans, we're always too late... Half a second, fifteen minutes, and you've missed the train again. You've missed your chance, but what chance did you miss? To get that extra work done? To set up your office for the day? To grab that extra cup of coffee? You'll never know...
Some days, I think Love would be kinder if it worked that way as well... Instead of having to watch you every time we meet... To hear your frustrations with a forced smile... To see your pain and not be able to fix it...
Don't you know...
I'd give anything....
anything...
But I'm too late...I always am...
And jealousy....
Well...
...it's not cute...
About the Creator
. Bakuzen .
A rising poet/modern prose writer that is using vocal to do a test run on some of my work. If you do happen to like what you see, be sure to let me know. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.
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