Saturday, 18 January 2014

between the spaces

You know what they say about history; it's a string full of knots. There's also his side and her side and the truth. You tell your version and I tell mine but we're not lying either. Then I start to wonder about different scenarios of our stories, each with a different ending.

It's 3am and my mind wanders. I stared into the flickering candlelight trying to reign it back home. Should is an iron cage, a jacket that doesn't fit, a pair of trousers that are tight around the knees. I watched the flame die out. I'm exhausted too. Probably from the travelling I have done.

After all, the longest distance is when I stand in front of you and you ignore me.

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