I know for now we will never be close or at least close enough for me to feel the heat coming off of your skin. Covering mine like the sunlight on a freezing day. I loved that about you, the storms that followed you. I loved being Swept Away in it, being pulled apart just to be pieced back together. Nothing ever felt the same after that. How the hair on my neck would stand when you would kiss me, or the hours we spent with our eyes closed, guessing who was blinking. Not knowing that one day we would regret not staring into each other's eyes. Because of how badly we would want that time back, the seconds we could have had, in love, together.

Knowing that we would eventually spend the rest of our lives, looking out windows into the past. Remembering the dialogue lightly but the feelings constantly.

When the sun goes,
I find myself haunted by you.
I've convinced myself I've gone mad,
after all these years.
Finding comfort in waiting for you each time I close my eyes.

I need to move, much like an old shoe to a rusted can. I'm wasting away here, desperately in need of different scenery.

I need to trap the essence of your love somewhere between these white pages. So I can visit you whenever I want.

Call me selfish, because I couldn't learn to go. Only steps from the foot of your bed, but you don't feel much like sleep. Ripples are coming over us, and the fragments are coming together. Reminding us that there was no such thing as too broken. Even if the time comes and machines keep me breathing. Know you'll be half of every breath. The subtle twitching of my eyes will be a reel of memories. One last rollercoaster ride, you'll holding me tight. Preparing me for the things I could never face alone. Like being alone.

So I hear,
You've finally settled in.
You've let your hair down,
And I hear your pregnant now.
The road has opened up,
Giving you breathing space.
I'm sure he melts like me,
Oh that pretty face.
Outside the bird's chirping in,
The early morning sun.
Another beautiful day has come,
Another night is done.

But now you don't know what to do.
Until he looks at you.
Your minds a racing mess,
But the creative type.
You place his hand on your stomach,
You both laugh as the kicks begin.
Your loves a garden dear,
That you've only begun watering.