If this train went off the rails just as I was saying, "I love you,"
and the clanging noise caused you to hear, "I'm so far above you," instead, would you then go on to die regretting every previously treasured moment of our lives that we'd collectively spent on the off-chance that I'd been a pretentious ***** the whole time?

If I went broke before you could cash the check that I wrote in order to fix your broken childhood home - the one that your parents still live in and stand to lose if this check doesn't clear - because of some completely unpredictable market fluctuation/bank identity theft error,
would you hold me accountable for it?

If you counted every syllable in every sentence that I spoke on your half-birthday and it didn't add up to your age divided by one-third of the time it takes for your ruling planet to circumnavigate the solar system, would you then find our relationship to be some kind of gross horror?

If I walked away right now, while you were in the middle of asking me some ridiculous out-of-context question with no consequence, would you think it's because of some kind of insecurity or cowardice?

*******.
Holy ******* ohmygod where the **** have you been my whole life?
Good gorgeous holy God.
Is this really happening?
Do you really exist?
Do you mean to say that you really actually genuinely exist?
This is incredible!

How have you been here this whole time and I've just had no idea?
This whole time!?
It hardly seems fair,
but I don't even care anymore;
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter because you're here now.

Turns out that life was only pretending to be cruel and unjust and ugly before.
Turns out that it was all just the the set-up to the biggest and greatest revelation that anyone in the history of the world has ever experienced.
Turns out that every disgrace, every bad choice, every ache and pain endured was all worthwhile;
For your face.
Your voice.
Your smile.

The perspective that paints things in a positive light
is the one that most often escapes me,
though I chase it through chasms and tunnels and towers and trees.
I swing through a perceived collective consciousness in a desperate attempt to grasp what's most relevant; missing nearly every branch.
Trying to convince myself that I'm not a solipsist.

If you were me, then I'd be you, and I'd choose to do the same things that I'm doing now, which I guess isn't all too surprising.
All things considered.

Twenty times two is twenty-two;
I've got all of five years on you.
Please paint me in a hue that pleases your palatte.
I hope you brought enough blue.

"ever think of babies as pet humans?
I see some on leashes, dressed up in
clothes they didn't choose to wear.  some
photographed under steaming white
lights completely ignorant of what it
is they're doing.  is it defined in their
tiny bodies?  yes.  and they're doggish
grasp of speech.  everyone is a mutt,
from the cradle to the kennel, it's true."

Things fall off these shelves as if fulfilling their innermost secret desires to rest somewhere else.
We take these things and arrange them with the utmost care
Hoping to leave an impression on anyone wanton enough to stare
"Look at my Creation!
Admire my eye for detail
My magnificent use of composition
The originality
It's so unique
I take these things and make something which all the starved seek
This juxtaposition of so many different things
My inspiration?
Well, really, it's just a physical manifestation of everything that makes up me
Everything is a self portrait, if you know what I mean"
wink wink
But these things, they think; HOW DARE HE!
and in your sleep
they fall from the mirror
to drown down the sink
in order to be free from your artistic tyranny