to, and from

a view before the glass plane 
the sun bears her love upon your face
your tears are necessary for me to swallow
as one day, my name will bear not love, 
but grief, and, i fear. . . 
that will starve you of life – by sorrow.

my journey nears an end beyond belief
and i cannot venture any more with you
our hands will once be un-intertwined
life shattered – as fragile as glass
by the reaper’s gentle breathe

your grief flows–
rapid, destructive, serene, idyllic
leaving you wake in such pain. . .
everything we have built 
over such a short span of time
can be built again.

i cannot stop you from caring, even if i tried
like a stormed statue, still and sopped
the drops fueled by mine end,
there is only one thing i can possibly ask
easy and simple, if you can bear
think of me once in a while, my love, take care

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