I am in the sky,
the past is a passenger with me,
as I listen to our phone call,
from last Friday,
where I lied,
letting you think that I didn’t write,
with tears in my eyes,
that I knew,
that I love,
even when I am miles away,
that I dream of every night,
that I hope to never lose.
I am not bandaged in time,
I am flying,
feeling my heart skip,
each time I hear your voice,
knowing I would need more bandages,
if I didn’t have a piece of you,
to keep me on the path away from you.
We live in the same state of fear,
and I am panicked by your sighs.
We were fighting on Friday,
I was vague and unhelpful,
because I didn’t know how to tell you,
that I wanted to be in your arms,
but I feared being there,
in case things weren’t the same,
as they were before Friday,
and before every other day,
when I slip,
close to a cliff edge,
distant and dreary,
wondering if this is the time that I lose you.
I am listening to our phone call,
from last Friday.
I assume you didn’t know I kept them,
but they are close to my heart,
and essential to me staying sane,
when I cannot be close to you.
You asked me what was on my mind.
I acted like I was fine,
and I know it was annoying,
and I know I’m not supposed to say I’m annoying,
but I was wondering,
when it would be the last time,
I will be your hunnybee.
If you’ll love me,
a lifetime longer.
I was wondering,
when I would lose you,
because I can’t believe you’re mine.