we want to be
the geniuses who unfold a prostitute's fake smile
the broken hands holding up the world
the horrible summer you can't stop remembering fondly
the picture that inspires you to create
the words we ache over
we want to be:
a funny secret.
the things people laugh about when they're stoned
we could be:
the last people on earth.
the only ones left for you.
who you call home.
we could belong to each other. to people other than ourselves, and it would still be okay.
we would still get through this.
we will still make it through this.
it doesn't matter what kind of person you are.
it really doesn't matter what people say.
you don't have to do everything yourself.
we will still find happiness.
somewhere over the rainbow,
we'd be stars.