Always told the grass isn’t always greener
But pastures were never the main objective
Looking back and wondering
Wishing rather that things were the same
Trying to recapture
What was never really there in the first place
Holding on to
Words on a screen or pictures in your head
Reminiscing with them
The images and your heart on a cold night alone
Trapped with feelings
Sensations you don’t want to even acknowledge
Constantly bringing up the good old days
Since the days now are spent apart
Slowly creeping towards invisibility
With some hope that they’ll notice
And if they did, what would you say
Pass the blame from hand to hand
The point is far beyond that
There is nowhere to turn back to
A difference between the two is clear
Giving up is not the same as changing
In order to give up
You have to feel something when you walk away.


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