You and I have fantasised
About too many golden sunrises
And yet we always sleep through dawn
Always wake up seconds too late
When grandeur has faded into familiarity

Our bodies are bruised
From all the invisible rocks we have hurled at each other
Our lungs tired from breathing toxic air
Our ankles sore from dragging chains
My fingers are covered in papercuts
From the edge in your voice

We have handcuffed each other
And put leashes around our necks
Confining each other to this birdcage house
Afraid to be the one that has to watch
The other fly free

Yesterday I tried to find the movie stub
From our first date
And instead found my pockets
Stuffed with fist-fulls of receipts
For things neither of us bought

Like the black hole in our bed
That occupies centre stage in our polka dot bedsheets
It swallows the words we speak
And refuses to let them echo
How many conversations have we drowned
With alcohol and tears
How many keys have we thrown away
To lie in a mound ten feet tall
Keys that could have opened the doors
To our secret stash of confessions and apologies
That could have saved us
On the nights that you wrap your arms around me
I can feel your body curving along the edge of the hole
Trying not to fall through
Determined to maintain miles between us
Even though I can feel your breath on my neck

Our living room is covered with pictures of strangers
Because we are afraid of stapling our own faces to the walls
Afraid of calling this prison a home
Afraid of making what had started out as temporary
A permanent affair
So instead we crawl from day to day
Skipping each sunrise as it comes