Like you,
But with no filters around your mouth
Not stopping midway when you reach out for me.
Like you but before my demons got to you.

Like me,
But with my heart not swelling and crashing,
My lungs not elating with hope and deflating with reality
Like me, but before i fell in love with you.

Like you,
But with strong hands that feel like fluttering of butterflies against my skin when they touch me
Your footsteps sometimes syncing with my heart beats,
Like you but when I could read your eyes the way I read poetry, never getting enough of either

Like me,
But me talking to you, rather than bringing up your name as the room quietens and my friends look anywhere but in my eyes
Like me but when I had you, instead of these metaphors, and hyperbole, smilies and allegories, arranged in the shape of you so I could still have some souvenir of you.
Like me but with our names that you scratched on my back not faded.

Like you,
But not thinking that you have had me figured out now, so you could casually go down your library and put me on a shelf
Like you
But not finding me to be a waste of breath.
Like you but when you thought my light was worth the long period of eclipses it comes with

Like me,
But going on walks with you to the beach
Instead of me going on and on trying to kiss the horizon or the bottom of the sea,
It depends on the mood actually.
Like me but happy.

Like us,
But when we knew exactly who it was that we wanted us to be,
Instead of clinging to whatever vague ideas our mind comes up,
Doing anything to distract us from the aching hollow heart we carved ourselves out of