Twelve o’five of the twenty-nine of nine

Every minute is a struggle, resisting to hold you

Every inch away from you is torture, not being able to feel you

I’m not sure until when

I’m not even sure if it’ll be just like this

but somehow,

the struggle, the torture, the unknown between us two

can be so frightening yet comforting at the same time.

If this is all there ever will be,

then at least there’s this comfort of having you near.

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