we were weathered,
torn and frayed, we were
midnight skies with the stars
ripped out.  we were broken
knees, busted lips, and
heaving lungs.  we were
neck deep in the water,
we were floating against
the horizon and the tide
was chasing after our
last breaths. we were
clasped hands, shooting stars
against the gravity of time.

we were old and we
were infinite.  

but it’s only a dream,
disposable camera wishes.
fragile lashes wake to another
empty room, ghost kisses
against the back of the neck.  
it’s a graveyard nightmare, skin
crawling with the need to stop
living–just to feel alive again.

because as fate would have it,

we were young, and we
weren’t as endless as we
liked to believe.