How. How is it that when you told me anything, it felt like the truth?
How do I never know whats right when you hold me?
How come, its so different when you're around?
I don't understand. You've left me without knowledge of what to do or what to say.
You left me too soon.
I tried to hold on. I really did, but you were just too slippery.
Why didn't you hold me back? Did you not know I needed you?
I need you.
It must have not been in the cards. Not my luck to have you to keep, was it?
Instead, you fell through the sieve of my hands like beauty-laden sand.
You were so beautiful, but terrible in that beauty, riddled with dirt and mess. I only wanted you that way. Your perfection, just to behold.
But now it's gone.
Now you're gone.
What I'd give to hold you one more time.
What I would do to hold the clock on that hour, when you walked out. I took no notice, until you never walked back in.
I know you'll never hold me again. I know that you're gone.
But I'll hold onto you. What I have left.
I'll hold. That's all I could do to begin with.
