I would never,
Want to be,
Your light in the dark.

If anything at all,
I'd be a purple flare,
Against a bright afternoon sky,
On the longest day,
Of your life.

It's another Tuesday afternoon,
The stench of gloom in the air overpowered,
By the smell of sugarless, herbal tea.

I should be on my way soon,
I look down, the eyes of a coward,
Surrendering to words that escape me.

"I’m leaving, on a hot air balloon,"
"I won't be back till the hills are snow cowered,"
"Lifelines of white, against a flat lining sea."

"But I'll be back soon,"
I say, but she's gazing skyward,
"So this is the night, He promised it to be."

"Too many months of June",
"Has my poor heart encountered,"
"It is time for her to be free."

"And if this shiny moon,"
"Were to be crimson and flowered"
"Wouldn't make a better goodbye, than this is to be."

So the birds sang a tune,
We looked back, staring forward,
One final time, we took our first sip of tea.

"If this is to be,"
"Our last cup of tea,"
"May it be with sugar, grandma,"
"Two spoons for you,
Two spoons for me."

I have been here,
Since the bench we now sit on,
Was still a tree, swaying in the wind.

Since the surreal morning skies we see,
Were just thoughts,
In a young boy's untethered imagination.

I have been here,
From a time when change of seasons were marked,
By the games we managed to play.

Since adventures that we embarked upon,
Were just harmless journeys,
Of 13 miles, to the very edges of the city.

It is time for me to go,
Chasing surreal skies I have not already seen,
To the edges of new cities.

This time, I will be gone long,
But when I lose myself,
To untethered imagination,
It is still thoughts of you I'll see.

Wait for me, my love,
For when I give in,
To whims of temporary escape,
In your arms is where I'll be.

It is time for me to go,
Chasing surreal skies I have not already seen,
To the edges of new cities.

Maybe,
One winter morning,
In landscapes very different,
From here.

Brews,
A gentle snow,
As soft as light grazing against,
Water, so clear.

Maybe,
Outside your heavy doors,
You'll walk into canvases of white,
And blue.

Waters,
Frozen still,
Like I wish this moment was,
With you.

The winter's cold,
On freezing, uncovered fingers,
Will feel less harsh,
Than time.

We're trapped,
In a snow globe,
But I'd stay for as long as you
Were mine.

I'm selling all my faces,
All the ones I've worn,
From the happy to the torn.
The one with the smiles,
The one with the scorn.

I'm selling all my faces,
To anyone willing to see,
Through the one on me.
The one that hides my scars,
The one that sets me free.

I'm selling all my faces,
But there's one I'm not so keen,
To be sold or to be seen,
It's the one that's burnt on me,
The only one I mean,
The one that no-one's seen.

I'm selling all my faces.

We are,
Sitting on water tanks,
As the clouds begin to play childish pranks,
With the moon.

We have,
A perfect moment in an imperfect time,
Your palms squeezed into mine,
Not a moment too soon.

"Where are we going?"
"Nowhere, for now."
"We'll figure out where, once we figure out how,"
"As we go."

But I want to take you,
Taste your soul through sealed lips,
Hold you tight in my arms, as we take trips,
By ourselves.

I want to let go,
Every joy and misery I've ever known,
For a second with you smiling, your hair blown,
In an open car, on the open road.

So take my hand,
We can go drowning in these shallow waters,
Alone in our darkness,  among light that never falters,
And let go.

You can fall,
Know that broken people put back together,
Feel as good as new, as good as never,
But, for you, I'll try,
I won't break, I won't cry,
I'll hold on to you, like reason, to the only thing that matters,
So take my hand, we can go drowning,
In shallow waters.