i'll build us a rowboat and we'll sail to the moon - but don't expect to come back soon.
these forgotten concepts, these rendered thoughts, one can merely think of all that was not. or all that was, but went unnoticed. i've been weighed down by complications, lately. questions, more so, that spark up ideas and thoughts of things that may have been not too long ago. questions primarily dabbling in love. and i wonder what happened to that feeling - that feeling of utter contempt that made everything weightless and worthwhile. what happened to looking out of windows rimmed with optimism, into a world of complete surety? all i can do is question. how one can claim so much and take it all back, but is unable to let go. as though they're searching for that final piece in you. that final little bit that looks them square in the eye and breathes, "i'm it. you've found me."
and you can keep me.
