What made you think that,
Just because you have strong hands,
Which look like they were sculptured by God himself,
You can touch the most sacred parts of my body,
Then leave me,
And leave my skin burning and yearning for more?

What made you think that,
You can look into my eyes,
And shakingly hold my face in your bandaged palms,
And whisper lies to me on your hospital bed,
Telling me that everything will be okay,
That you would fight for me,
Then months later give up?

What made you think that,
I was joking when I said,
I would get married to you,
And have our favorite songs play at our wedding,
Once we get our lives figured out?

What made you think that,
I would ever let you die,
Unacknowledged,
As a victim of drunk driving,
With that murderer still unarrested?

What made you think that,
I will ever be fine,
Seeing everyone else going on with their lives,
Hardly unimpacted,
When my life after you feels like,
A two-dimensional black and white documentary?

What made you think that,
I have celebrated enough birthdays with you?

Love is found and love is lost, within our minds and within our hearts.

As couples tie, the future writes, where and why they're obliged to split in tense, before the thought could even rise and tread inside our darkened skulls that don't make sense, our skinny thighs are washed aside and caught instead,
by the silly heights of the tides of life, their chilling splash drowning out both our wars and art, hence,
my defence:

Like a fish on land;

I wish a humming bird would just sing and dance, as it crushes my inner child, takes my hand and decides to
pass the stars before swinging left,
crashing hard into the fickle sands of Mars, non-intact, we'd die on impact, hand in hand, but unimpacted, without giving a single ****, because with this act,
our scars would be dissolved within its tangent,
not only would our bond be branded into a carefully distilled, living planet,
we'd successfully **** old habits, thus expanding the soul's own bandwidth.

We are one, we are magic.