More than friends.
More than team.
More than family.
You are the one
I would walk into the knife for.
No speech.
No music.
Just bad light
and trouble.
You would do it too.
Yeah.
We both know it.
What is the word for that?
Not romance.
That is for suckers
and greeting cards.
Not family.
That word is a graveyard.
This thing
would die for you,
would die for me,
and still comes stamped
temporary,
like cheap rent
in a rotten neighborhood.
We act like it is forever
for the few hours
the door is shut
and it is only us,
gun smoke in the air,
laughing at nothing,
holding the world off
with bare hands.
Language looks at this
and walks away.
So we drink.
We swear.
We throw our lives
at each other
without a name for it.
Maybe there is no word.
Maybe it is just this
ugly, holy thing
between us,
teeth bared,
daring the world
to try again.
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 8:54 PM UTC
More than friends.
More than team.
More than family.
You are the one
I would walk into the knife for.
No speech.
No music.
Just bad light
and trouble.
You would do it too.
Yeah.
We both know it.
What is the word for that?
Not romance.
That is for suckers
and greeting cards.
Not family.
That word is a graveyard.
This thing
would die for you,
would die for me,
and still comes stamped
temporary,
like cheap rent
in a rotten neighborhood.
We act like it is forever
for the few hours
the door is shut
and it is only us,
gun smoke in the air,
laughing at nothing,
holding the world off
with bare hands.
Language looks at this
and walks away.
So we drink.
We swear.
We throw our lives
at each other
without a name for it.
Maybe there is no word.
Maybe it is just this
ugly, holy thing
between us,
teeth bared,
daring the world
to try again.
What do you call the bond that is deeper than friendship, not romance, and still feels temporary. The kind you would bleed for. If you have a word for it, I want it.
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