spinning, spinning

i heard
the world is going to stop
and let us off,
but i still seem to be
spinning, spinning,
holding on to everything
you tried to take
for granted, but i
wouldn’t let you; and
now we’re granted
space from one another…

i heard
the world is going to stop
and let us off,
but i still seem to be
spinning, spinning,
holding on to everything
we took for granted, but you
let go when you left; and
now we’re done, so i can
walk away, the other way,
and not even bother to get off.

it’s easier to write bullshit and say, “that’s good…,” than it is to stop writing and try to pick back up.