What would I do with you if you existed the way I see you,
And one day it'd be all over, and one day you'd be gone and that day I would be standing alone with tears on my face and unrepairable damage in my soul alreadly planning my death, and I'd know it all happened the right way, the way it was supposed to... the only way where everything could turn out okay, but it would still hurt more than any other possible torture.
And then I would die, and then it would be okay again... because oh... what I'd do with you right now.
Back.
with perfect love pouring from you to me and back again.
We'd do everything and anything. We'd pass out in each others arms after a night of hard drinking and wake up with hangovers with our heads sharing a toilet. We'd walk the dog and I'd tell him to pee on you and you'd tell him to bite my balls but he'd never dare do either and we'd laugh. There'd be a fire in my eyes that couldn't fizzle out, and my heart would burn us both. Everywhere we went the light would dim, just for us, and dusk and dawn would be beautiful. No detail could escape or slip by, but the hours would march on and on, feeling like fleeting seconds. I'd spend hours alone, just crying with love, almost hoping you wouldn't come back home so I could just keep crying and keep healing and keep crying and keep loving you. Worries would root in the ground and die at my feet, and we'd make love on the stairs... just because. We'd spend our nights on the roof under the stars and we'd spend our mornings at the rickety kitchen table, drinking coffee and sipping tea and smelling the newness in the air of the freshly born day. We'd have possibilities and children. The light would catch your face the right way over and over and over again and I'd remember it every time. When the dog passed away, we'd cry together and in turn be thankful for life life life. There'd be camping trips and piercings, maybe not in that order. There'd be days without sun and darkness would descend, but eventually we'd remember to light our candles and it would all scamper away. As the years continued, our smiles would not fade, and our nights would never be spent alone... even if we were separated by miles or twin beds. You'll need glasses and I'll need a hearing aid, but I'll never bother to wear it and shuffle around hollering because of it. We'd have to watch our friends leave us, one by one, and we'd cry for them and for ourselves because they're gone.