i can see the end is coming.
from the time you hold your breathe and gaze back at me while i clutch onto your collared shirt, when you take me floating among the clouds; your sweet gentle smile; and the tight grasp on my wrist you promise to never let go of, to the moment i feel your firm grip on my shoulder; and how you said you were really worried about me.
i know the end is coming.
though you would never say it, you were afraid of losing me, and you won’t let history repeat itself twice, the ever-broken heart of going through another grief is the kind of black magic you wish you’d exorcise if you could.
then you pushed me away off the sides, calling it an end when i intend to hold us longer, the clock is ticking but i live in your time, ‘go somewhere safe’ and where is that if you weren’t there?
i can see the end is coming.
but not this time, no, not here yet, so i want you to know it’s rather a see you again.
where i am no longer the odd one, wandering away searching for answers to your complicated world, where i have not become the burden you’ll always carry in mind in the midst of battle fights, where i can be with you longer ‘til the time’s running out.
so i wouldn’t get pushed off the sides twice, and have to wonder whether you were real; whether what we had was real.