One. You look at him and breathe.
You feel unsteady on your feet.
They say first steps are hard to take
And the decision, hard to make.
Two. He looks at you and tries
So hard to read it in your eyes
What he should say to make you stay
When your own will is made of clay.
Three. You both look at the door,
And you can’t take it anymore.
Your lips part, but still in vain;
The words die in your throat again.
Four. You turn your back on him.
The end is always dire and grim.
You take one step, then two, three, four,
Before you know it, you’re out the door.
Five. You hear him call your name,
And one spark ignites a flame,
The flame lights up a fire and pain
And it explodes in every vein.
Six. He makes his way to you
And you’re right back to step two.
Still looking for glimmers of hope,
As you keep walking the tightrope.
Seven. You turn around once more,
He stands with you right at the door.
You hold on to reasons to stay,
And it’s him who walks away.