It rained in June when it wasn't supposed to.
Went and came back, it was still pretty much the same. The rocks stood straight up, the calls were inconsistent. The Overwhelming was in fact pretty much intact, no way of avoiding that now. We walked down the street next to ours and vanished into a different place altogether, I still wondered if the moments would count, as many as they were, they were forgotten the second it happened, yet, we never really could. It trailed over to conversations, mingling the tender, desperate struggle to say something, but they never once turned to us for more than a minute at most, and at that, hardly ever listening.
There, for a thought, it appeared, but why it comes and goes, the surety of it is sadly, unclear. Marc came up with this...
"Cause im not afraid to love, for the first time i'm not afraid to love."
Trailing, yes, the confusion was finally here and it made us feel so, what was the word? It made us, no, me, wander. Wandering. The gentle tick-tock of time, making me fade away with each pasing moment.
Maybe i'll take a walk down that lane again, maybe the answers are there this time. But she'd rather stay than go, what's in between, that, my sweet, is your mysterious secret.
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