I don’t even know where to begin
Possible I should start at the end
Where we are old and dead
Or at the very least lying on our death bed
Talking of our fond memories

Maybe a voiceover for the scenes of our laments
And flashbacks of the lives we lived

Did we do well in our deeds
Did we do badly in our mistrusts
Did we do all that we could do

Or did we just sit at home
Watch television as time passed us by
In cruel shades of silver, black, and white

What do we talk about
In our final moments
In our final breath

Do we pronounce our undying love

Or do we finally choose not to
Ignore our revulsion that festered in our bellies
Like growing infants long passed the due date

I choose to think
We’d speak of adoration
Because in this world
There’s already too much loathing to bear
And not enough love to dwell

Or maybe we do speak of the abhorrence
The contempt that never seemed to die away
From that first moment of infidelity
To the last shouted “I love you”
Shouted during one of those great big
Silent fights that we were known for

Suppose we spoke of both love and hate
Talked and narrated the past many years
In the few moments that we both still continue living

Our dying eyes gazing into the others extinction
A feeling of panic then euphoria overtakes us

And in our last gasping, final breath
I think I’ll tell you
That no matter what our history has produced
There’s no one I’d rather die with
Than you