The words escaped my lips
Hushed like a whisper
Pressed against his ear
Dripping like Northern December.
I can't be dying
I preach to myself
Sitting on our cold wood floor
The window glares at me
And birds stare like I'm a dragon.
I should be dying.
I don't deserve this,
His kind grey eyes gaze into mine
Like he's watching the stars.
I'm just dying.
The brick wall leans against me
As I fight a losing battle with reality
And his arms hold me close
While rain drenches my limp red hair.
I've done nothing
And regret everything
I know there are knots in his stomach
His heart aching for one last grasp
The same grasp I wish for now
A touch neither of us has the pleasure to feel
Now that I'm gone.