Impasse.
Our always,
Our every days.
We have floated,
Or driven, So far apart,
I question if that was us at start.
We see such different a view.
It's like we truly don't get,
Why we feel what we do.
We are silent in slow burning anger.
Polite through the things we should say,
And so we are moving, constantly moving,
Further and further, and further, away.
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