And so, the desperation is gone - but what are we left with, baby? You tell me about your fears, and I think to myself, why aren't you running? And I watch the world spin under me, and you close your eyes, one after the other after the other. Maybe you haven't tasted failure yet, maybe its name is still hidden from you. Maybe I'm the weakling, the fearless child ready to fall down the well. Maybe we are all just fine. But if I could snap the cord of ignorance from you, you would be plummeting from the sky.
©another
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