surreal

seesaws and swings

how long have we been like this?

we're like seesaws and swings
going up and down
swaying back and forth

i try to convince myself
that nothing has changed
but i find myself doubting myself

gone are the times when we can talk
about everything and anything
under the sun

in its place are empty gestures of affection
in attempt to fill the void
where warmth had long left

we're the broken lightbulbs
hanging on your dad's old basement
flickering on and off

its like we're being held together
by a single cord of rope
a bit of tension
and we'll be cut off

so i find myself hanging on
tying loose ends in double knots

ignoring your sarcastic remarks
because i know you never mean them

we've always talked about forever
but forever feels like walking on a concrete road
not knowing about the cliff that lies at the end

how long have we been like this?

when did it start?

and how do i make it end?