Sorry, Wrong Number. I may not understand the body, and it can be debated about the mind, but I do know more than you think. You can lose your chance with me in a blink. Be honest, don't lie. You're making things unwind. It's a shame you can't tell me many things and others are just a lie. I've caught you in a lie. You're making this liking thing die.
Fuck this rhyme shit. I'm going to speak my mind.
Turn off the discretion. Trust half of what you say. The rock of Gibraltar is a place people live. Although a kissing rock sounds just damn fine. Spiders are swallowed in sleep but you shouldn't worry, you're a snake. But thanks for making me not worry.
My phone lists missed calls. Oops.
Discretion back on. Sorry, wrong number. Try harder if you know I'm worth it, otherwise slide away.
Sss, rawr, scoff. A liar is a major turnoff.
Maybe this discretion knob is broken. I can understand you not calling. I have a life and you don't need to be a part of it if you don't want to. But I was at least worth the truth or the right number.
Sorry, wrong number. Sorry, right email. I should have learned from this book I read, never to trust a serpent. Was I wrong in giving the benefit of the doubt, into thinking that he's worth it?
Not angry, just disappointed. I'm stronger than most of the girls you know. I'm strong enough to keep off the discretion long enough to press send.
As always, we walk along the roads that we choose. We cross the path of other's sometimes by force, sometimes by coincidence, sometimes for no reason. My road has crossed the paths of many, some of whom I wish I hadn't. Others, I savour the memory of. Your road is your own, and while I would wish it to run parallel to mine, or even intertwine, my path has been jagged enough not walk alone always, but walk beside others when I can.
Not too long ago someone from my past started speaking to me of when we had been walking side by side. They said that they realized that whenever there was any form of conflict, or any real concern, I would stand apart. Much like you feel, I am not on your side, nor was I on theirs. They told me that "though we were together, and I thought you were on my side, you were always gone. You're always on your own side." I suppose that is the way I've lived. I feel truly alone when I walk along the open, and it gives me the conviction to seek out those who would walk beside me. And as much as I may desire it, few have been able to walk with me.
For the time being I suppose that is the way it is. There's no real fate, only the act of looking back that imposes narrative. It makes me wonder, which of the curses of misfortune started? Was it a broken mirror some years ago, or one of the many written ones cursing my happiness if I failed to aid them?
To me it doesn't matter. I hold no worries over you, despite how others may. I know you are strong, but I can see where you are. Your power will serve you well, as it will give you the strength to walk whatever path you see fit. If our paths part, then they will. We should enjoy our time together as much as it can. But no matter. What comes will come. We will both choose our paths. Through dark or light, the books of experience and time shall be read if we choose to open them. Many hold truths, many hold absence thereof. Some both.
That which once was, Is no longer.
And you are worth more than you can imagine. But now is neither the time I can show you it, nor the time you can see it.