A drunken soul asked me:
Will you marry me?
His words slurred however his intentions were not blurred as they spilled out of my delicate sleepers mind.
Suddenly that one question seemed all too real to me
and I smiled.
I smiled a thousand suns and a million other galaxies because of the one question.
Will you marry me?

Suddenly the images of a bright white wedding dress bombarded my vision,
the silk like clouds,
and a prominent black suit stood by its side.
Faceless yet I knew who it was.
Then the vivid daydream ended,
and I found myself sat on my bed,
in front of a phone,
typing,
'not quite yet we're too young baby **'.
Yet that answer felt wrong.

Saying yes would mean the world to me.
But being 16 is a number that marriage would regret ever meeting.
Age is just a number right?
But when it implies the world's prominent questions...
Age is a limit.
So I said maybe.

Maybe.
Maybe one day.
Maybe today.
Maybe next week, next month, next year.

But for now,
how about we settle with a promise.
I promise my dear to always love you,
cherish you.
I will never cheat.
Lie.
Or steal your love.
I am yours and you are mine.

Will I marry you?
Yes.
Just some other time.

They told me my heart was too fragile to stand on its own
That it's beating
It's thumping
It's pounding
Only existed because it was held up by a man or the promise of one
I told them no
For it existed because the woman I am carries it daily and the promise of the woman I will become is what keeps it beating

I gave you the tools.
The keys, the love to power the machine
I gave you the fuel you needed
I kneaded out the k(nots) in your back, in your lips, planted petals of forget-me-nots with my tongue
I knotted your shoelaces so you would never trip
But that didn't stop you
I put my hands on your shoulders and breathed down your neck, like a dragon, fire coming from me always
Your face down, submissive, and relaxed.
You stayed like that until the end
Weak and unbothered, driving off and gassed up.
With my fuel.
This is why I do not drive.