Baby let me help redesign you, you are a work of delipidated art, Let me restore your shine, your luster, your being, you. . for that is perfection. . . or close to it. . .
"why don't you date?" we made a pact, when we said I do, I promised to be there, even when he's not here, I'll always be there, even in death. . . -l̶o̶y̶a̶l̶t̶y̶
It hurts. . . the home we didn't build, the moments yet lived, the house not purchased, the vacations not taken, the memories not lived it hurts, dreaming of what we could do. . .
You explored each crevice, pulled apart each door, burned your image across the waves, traversed every mark & every ridge like the roots in dry desert heat, you drank your fill and moved on, naked & embarrassed I now lay alone, I wish it was not so.
Close your eyes count to three, it'll go away, it'll be okay, four, five, six open your eyes you'll be fine ten, eleven, twelve when he died, I lost my sight I lost my purpose, twenty, thirty, fifty I will never be okay. . . & that's okay. . .
This Christmas, I do not ask for a lot, I simply wish to dream eternally, so we may meet once more just a second in time, to ask for forgiveness for who I became.