Playing the waiting game.

Do you think that’s right?

Do you think that is right in anyway?

You know, wait for the last leaf to fall, wait for the last drop of rain, wait for the last sight of snow, wait for the last man to speak, wait until evil turns to good.


Do you think it’s safe that way, to be the one waiting? To be the one to see the last drop fall, to be the one to hear the last man speak? Just waiting in time where everything moves faster than it should but its slow, so slow, you think you can touch it, except, you can’t.

You know what I would do?

I would walk away.

I wouldn’t run from it all. I would just walk away.

Take what belongs to me; gather the leaves fallen before, sink in the raindrops on the window and hold the snow fallen on the ground and walk away.

Because sometimes it’s only that much;

To be there in time to see it all and that you had, at least that little thing, that made everything around you so damn beautiful, I’d walk away.

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