taken from

looking back it really didn’t matter
we were just consumed by our own lives
intertwined by the passion
that blazed on our fingertips

we didn’t seek for a tomorrow
because we were too thirsty for the now
and when we broke
we didn’t know what to do
we were hungry
and sad
and broken, partly because
it was truly our fault

time is queer
to think that it mends the deepest cuts
but kills the best of friends
so we took time for a stroll
to see what we really were

we’re old
our heads pointed to the ground where we walk
our fingertips shriveled
as we traced the length of road we had to pass
“silly” you said
“silly” i agreed