Sometimes it’s just the least awkward thing to do,
Entire corridors empty, and your heart slows down
To a rate you can sleep to, and dream of Lake City.
Of a day when you can feel alright in a crowd
To give and take in equal measures.
But in what you felt back then, you were not alone.
You were not the only one to freeze and fall apart,
Not the only one to lose and lose.
In some ways, it is over.
Electricity shuffles you to silence,
dancing for nothing in the hallway.
It is over.
Posted by you and me at 13:30