It's been years of safe play.
Moments of wow...
of maybe this is how,
it could be.
Of no one walking out on that limb.
It's been years of frustration
Wondering if I was just another pawn in your game of life.
Moments where you could cut the sexual tension with a knife...
and still,
that limb remained empty.
It's been years...damn
it's been years.
Years of too much,
Years of not enough...
But years still...and I think that says so much,
even if that limb is still empty.
The years have led to this,
to the possibility of an end.
And yet still, the end would begin the years of what if,
of what may have been,
had I took to that limb.
The years haven't prepared me for that.
But I'll accept it willingly,
in exchange for your happiness.
