The world twists like threads forming a tight rope and I am paralyzed from the waist down. I sense that it is time to run, to call upon another riding in on a white steed. But in this open plain of gold and darkening blue, I have no sense of direction and there is fading light.
His gaze seems distant now. He is falling out of love, I can hear it in his voice. We talk, we laugh, we reminisce about memories hollowed out by our recollection of them. He comes around the bend, again and again – but it is for something that is hurting my heart to give.
That whisper in the depths of my mind grows louder. Time to let go. And I wake up in the dead of the night reeling from the aftermath of that realization. There are no tears, just a haunting thought that sensitizes me to emotions I thought passed in teenage years.
We were both young and weak – hell, I still am. And I depend on you the way you used to love me whole. Take me back to seventeen, when I was in love with my poetry and a Riverside girl. That was a simpler time.
Maybe he was my castle in the sky – or maybe he was two years I should have walked past.