You start to say you're leaving,
But stop before the word is done.
You look away for cover,
Then return like you’ve begun.
You try to form the ending,
But the meaning slips apart.
You breathe like you’re certain,
But doubt still guards your heart.
You come back mid-sentence—
Before the truth can settle in.
You come back mid-sentence—
Where every choice is wearing thin.
You say you're walking out,
But you circle what you meant.
You never reach the finish—
You come back mid-sentence.
You say you’re past the moment,
But your eyes still search for mine.
You tell me not to follow,
But your steps fall into line.
You talk about the distance,
But you hover where you stand.
You say you want the ending,
But you never make the demand.
You come back mid-sentence—
Before the truth can settle in.
You come back mid-sentence—
Where every choice is wearing thin.
You say you're walking out,
But you circle what you meant.
You never reach the finish—
You come back mid-sentence.
Maybe the things you fear
Are hiding in the words you start.
So you pause before they surface,
Keeping safe your fragile heart.
You come back mid-sentence—
Every time your voice is weak.
You come back mid-sentence—
Where silence finally speaks.
You try to cross the moment,
But you stop at the event.
You never close the meaning—
You come back mid-sentence.
