I’ll be fine, I guess. So would you. How soon depends on how we broke. In half? Rough and jagged at the ends With you clinging angrily to your end and I to mine? Angry, stubborn tears stinging in your eyes or mine That’d be a while But you’d be fine. I’d be fine. Or maybe the courting of Death Seductive caresses across my wrists and lips or something sudden and final In screeching brakes and the smell of rubber tires denial and hollow ringing as I think for the first time in my life God, I wish I wasn’t wearing black. It doesn’t matter. A fight An illness A drifting? eventual (we had nothing left in common) You’d be fine. You’d remember me in fleeting moments Flicking past a space documentary on Netflix or pausing over a box of creamsicles in the frozen aisle And I would see you In the golden yellow hair of a passerby But it would pass every time One of us might laugh at the thought once we said you and me to the bitter end That a teenager knew what forever and always was and chalk it up to youthful naiveness And we would be fine. But I don’t want to be fine I want to be laughing so hard my stomach almost lacerates Because you know exactly what to say And I want to be pressing Kisses to your cheek and passing you hot cocoa Because today we’re staying in and watching Disney (singing along to every song of course) I want to introduce you to everyone Have you met…? And tell strangers in the grocery store About the most wonderful thing you did And watch them smile kindly over me gushing about you across the stacks of tomatoes. And I want to tell you over the phone about that stranger So you can say ew, tomatoes. I don’t want to be fine, I want to be the kind of ecstatic That only comes from us From discussing everything from lipsticks to physics to musicals to dying From knowing that when I am so tired I can feel it in my soul You will hold me and let me cry From believing it will always be us against everything From living happily ever after Because what is fine Compared to this?