“The distance is quite simply much too far for me to row
It seems farther than ever before
Oh no.”

A mere concept
Is now distance.

One decision,
Between oceans
And miles
Now lies unmade.

But of course.
It seems practical
That you could
Let me go.

It seems alright.

What’s life if not for
Those calculated steps we take.

Only, I never thought
The soul had a choice.

I guess I’m just the fool.

It seems the braver I am
The more functional you get.
The more I indulge
The sober you get.

I will be here Regardless.

But I would rather
Not make an option of this.

It is or it isn’t.


I could say
I need you closer

But how can I when you
Could willingly write this off?

I could go the distance.
That’s probably the problem.


Nothing but a fleeting
Possibility to you,

And I refuse to be an option.
What love? What Gives.

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