If it's meant to be
He'll call.
If it's meant to be
She'll wait.

Everything feels like it’s hanging
by some kind of delicate thread
wrapped around a well-kept secret
that everyone seems to admire the packaging of, but never dares to open the **** thing.

You play your notes
slow
like *******.  

Soft vibrations
push me to the edge of existence -
plummeting rapid
into the abyss,
stars scatter
around as I’m crashing,
waiting
to embrace me
and soften the fall;

Light iridescent reflects
a deep knowing:
That this is how we become
whole.

You were cut out for me.

Like diamonds from
a meteor spinning
in the galaxy’s depths.
But when we crashed
through the atmosphere
conjoined together
we harnessed a violence
that would burn down the earth.

So I cut you off from me.

And now we’ll float
through the ages
just shiny carbon and alien rock
in parallel lives
and misaligned space-time
entangled forever
by powers beyond us
until our very galaxy’s death.