turn around, don’t watch me walk away this time. i don’t think i could stand the pressure. instead, turn away, let’s both be ignorant of the other for this moment. it’s only a few steps; this isn’t something complicated.
(it’s only what you make of it; don’t make it complicated)
i hear your steps thud against the floor. they’re more distant now, i’m hearing as if through water. maybe my steps are drowning in oxygen, stealing air and trading silence back.
two steps, three… seven, eight… each one stays difficult, unwilling to cross through gravity even incrementally. go, hurry then, but don’t make me wait – don’t make me watch. your paces sound closer to my heels now. if i turned now, i’d be eye-to-eye with you. stay, you implore. stay here, stay with me this time – please.
this is the strangest kind of music we’re unused to creating.
tuckedintoacorner 