We were talking about how things were going cuz they were going so well, I never knew you'd be so indifferent but I knew you could tell. Reaching out across the shallow voices, collecting remnants of hope, I tremble not at the thought of failure but that of confusion drawn slow. As you relay that your wall's been breached, crumbled under the weight of indecision, these phone calls and car rides all gradually led to this fate. Am I the ghost of you? Merely a polar reflection, light refracting...cuz lately I'm torn between all these cliches and descriptions that we're still learning. We're hollow, we follow roads so shallow, we swallow notes as pills, lets let our words tie us up in "nots." We're hollow, these hollow woes. Shrugging off the ever present danger I slowly trudge through this sleep, these arguments that I lose to myself but I'm finding solace in defeat. Try to identify a single splinter, a red dot target mark...but it's everything, it's just fucking everything, it's me in my head vs. me in my head. I'm drawing a line in the sand, a bit unnecessary considering it's after the fact. Can I still learn from mistakes if I haven't lost yet? Or are we still playing? We're hollow, we follow roads, it's all so subtle, this is my refusal to be squeezed into your molds, we're hollow, these hollow woes. I'm high tide and you're the beach, cuz I'll move on while you fade away into me.
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