The world works in balances, in an even ebb with an even flow. There must be moonlight before the day can check out and go.
Love isn’t much different than the balances of the world. Someone must give so the other can take, turn it around so both get equal rights to the mistakes.
The imbalance put us at odds, one of us always wanted to call it quits. We didn’t have the proper balance for it.
Someone loved too much when the other, not enough. Someone doesn’t speak when the other talks too much. There was always an imbalance that became our crutch.
We wobbled towards the sun and didn’t have the gravity to keep us from that firey fall. We didn’t have the willingness to meet half way, let alone a phone call.
The imbalance made the earth crack and leaves us to move or to mend. The world is nothing but balance and somehow all we can do is end.