I do not know how to start this,

All I hope for is

Nobody else relates to these

Words I have written for you.

​

I am told it is easier

To think of you as

An impossible that goes on.

​

Last night,

You came in through my window,

And asked me to list all the things

I cannot save you from.

You left without a sound,

And a note that read

“I hope you don’t make a habit out of me”.

​

I tried looking for you,

In the mulberry store underneath

The run-down bridge

When all you did was let me ring on.

 

Flash cuts to years later.

A few lanes separated from the

House we never ended up living in.

I saw an asteroid break upon its passing

As your name oscillated through the

Undulations in the air.

 

Despite my distaste for the idea that memories bend,

it is easier for me to know
That he treats you the way you have always wanted.

​

And when I found you again,

on the weekend when the world ended.

As a form of a pyrrhic victory.

You spoke nothing concerning the world's end

or why you were always M.I.A but texted no different.

 

When I finally Mustered up the courage to ask you

if the world actually did end?

With your eyes drifting through the hazy light

You again said nothing of the world ending

You just clasped onto my face.

​

Being back on your arm again

All I could ask you was to

“aren’t you afraid of staying?”.

​

With dazzling limbs cutting

Through a pitch-black sky

Whether we are at the

World’s end or not: How can I think ahead?

When you are constantly on my mind.

​