I trade my time waiting for a response for the text I sent you.
I trade my time asking for you to pick up the call.
I trade my time picking up the phone again to check for your name.
I would trade my life and the next,
just to hear your voice.
I would trade the fingers that turn my book pages,
just to hold your hand once.
I would find a way to turn my running thoughts of you,
into a source of power to keep us away from the burning sun
so that you could go on to actually live
with, or without me.