i remember when thinking about the future
meant thinking about what class i had tomorrow
and dreading it, the sick sunday feeling
time goes on; weeks turn into months then years
i meet you
you handed me the blue prints of a future so fine
i imagined the wildest places that we could see
the endless possibilities that we had
of things to do, unrealistic or not
i didn't care if i was saving the world or staying in bed all day
the future was so exciting and yet so futile to me
once i was with you
you disappeared
now all i think about is the future
what i will do, how i will live, who i can share it with
but i don't want a future anymore
not because i don't have you to share it with
but because at twenty two years of age
i've seen things, felt things
that leave a pain like pressure on impact
bursting blood vessels as it bruises
if the future holds this much pain and more
i don't want to open my eyes again
the beauty i see every day isn't worth the pain we go through
to live, survive, or fall in love