I’m not afraid of great failure or absolute success
What I fear most is the in-between: a mediocre kind of life, without magic or surprises, or nights turned into days where we sat and watched sunrises
without dancing shadows and time to wrap my body around yours, without the pitter patter of tiny feet on cold, wooden floors
without a heart to love the sadness in me and chase it with light-
No, happy enough will never be sufficient for me
You’re so naive some like to say
But I rather stay naive and free.
