I count the seconds that pass
with every rain drop outside my window.
*plop plop* three... and a half
Thats four seconds of my life,
not wasted on thoughts of us.
The us that could have been,
but never was.
The us that never will be.
Another breif moment,
gone by without spending three wishes
to try to bring us back together.
*plop plop* nine... and a half
*plop plop plop* ten, eleven
Or is it twelve now?
The rain just falls down harder,
as if its trying to make it harder to count.
Trying to get me to focus more on the numbers.
Because in all reality the past minute spent wasn't counting the rain drops,
but forming the words i'd write in hopes of becoming us again.