You are the sun
I know that you already know that line,
but anthropomorphic sunshine is really hard to find.
I
just wanna know if I’m Romeo or Icarus

I know you’re with Count Paris,
He’s older, he’s stronger, he’s smarter, and he’s got higher testosterone,
while I’m from another house with my wings of wax and feathers
and feeling so alone

And I want to meet him, with his kids and new wife
I’ll say “I’ve heard so much about you, and all the things that you do, and I think you should keep doing those things because she deserves to be treated right”
I’ll turn to you and say I’m so lucky to have been able to be a part of your life
And I’m sorry and I love you, and I’m sorry and I love you,
And I’m sorry and I love you,
And thanks for being you

Thanks for letting me be a part of some small trip in the journey called your life
I’m so happy that you found the right road that leads you where you want to go
Thanks for getting in the car with me and for taking it offroad,
Showing me the most beautiful path of love that I now know
Although the word trip works for what we had both as tumbling and traveling
And we swerved around many obstacles, seeing just as many crows as crocuses during our time together it was still the best trip I could have ever wished for
Every love letter and every image of us now sits in the glove box,
Always there and always ready if I ever need a memory of what real love should be

Because sometimes I just can’t remember
the softness of your voice as you lay in my arms and whisper “I love you.”
My incessant desire to smile whenever my eyes meet yours.
So I ardently await the recollection of the previously accustomed feeling of your hand in mine, fingers intertwined, skeletons weaved together from your ankle up through my spine as time just stands still.

Every day I have to fight the desire to ask you to come back, so I can finally hold you tight
Every day I wish for a chainsaw to connect with my chest,
cutting open this cage called my ribs so I could reach in and offer you my heart.
Because I just want to be closer to you
and I know no God would never turn you back into a bone just left of my sternum

Every night I dream of December 22,
Or January 1, February 14 and May 31 too
But why should those matter when there’s December 24
And December 27 and oh so many more

I love that you love yourself and although I’d love it if your happiness would come from me
**** at least I can sleep at night knowing that you’re finally truly happy and finally truly free
I don’t know what makes a happy story,
And although much of what we had was melancholy, or calmly clamorous, I’m glad we had a happy ending
I’m so glad to have been lucky enough to have grown with you

And I’m sorry and I love you,
And I’m sorry and I love you,
And I’m sorry and I love you,

And thank you and I love you