The pieces of our lives

Something is knocking on my window again like a sign you are thinking of me. Music is playing softly in the background and I am feeling everything all at once. The rug is bursting at the seems trying to hide all of the truth no body wants to know. They all can see but are closing one eye and trying not to look out of the other in a desperate last attempt to pretend it is not happening. It is like a magic carpet that is constantly moving from underneath our feet. It is happening all around us. Time doesn't stop for us. But its like being in a dream with you, everything is real but other worldly like how I always wanted it to be. Smiling is something I am doing more often. The tap is leaking again, that same one. The one you have fixed for the millionth time, it's funny somehow that you never seem to get mad like the others. It's like a weekly occurrence that we both seem to enjoy the mundane tasks that make up the pieces of our lives. Fix the tap again and come running into my arms where you have always belonged but finally I am ready for you.