You tell me you're leaving,
But you don’t take the step.
You say you’re done with trying,
But you stay in what’s left.
You try to sound certain,
But your breathing falls behind.
You speak about your freedom,
But your actions stay entwined.
You leave without leaving—
You talk of endings you don’t choose.
You leave without leaving—
You turn away but never lose.
You break the moment softly,
But you still remain in view.
You say you're walking out,
But you stay like you always do.
You claim you want the quiet,
But you ask if I’m still near.
You say you're moving forward,
But your steps don't disappear.
You hide inside your pauses,
Like you're scared of what you know.
You speak of letting go now,
But you won’t release it slow.
You leave without leaving—
You talk of endings you don’t choose.
You leave without leaving—
You turn away but never lose.
You break the moment softly,
But you still remain in view.
You say you're walking out,
But you stay like you always do.
Maybe part of you is ready,
And the rest can’t find a way.
So you stand between the choices,
Never leaving, yet you sway.
You leave without leaving—
Every time you say goodbye.
You leave without leaving—
But your presence doesn’t lie.
You step aside a moment,
But you never follow through.
You say you're moving on,
But you stay like you always do.
