You/Me

and i know that when nighttime comes there will be another day but i am afraid that when daylight comes there won’t be another you. i shoot down the birds that try to fly high in my mind’s eye riding on air waves perpetually gliding until the day my cold steel bullet pierces through their hearts and leaves them bleed on the ground. left to myself i would write words upon my arm but this is no vacuum so i hide under dead grandma’s blanket and pray to the gods i hate and refuse to believe in that this picture of a red line vanishes like steam in the night air. and it’s you who like stained glass lets light through skewed, yet beautiful streams of sum dust motes dyes and dancing. i see nothing but blackness as i drown i this pool of uncried tears that seem to choke me even as i lie wide awake entangled in covers i can only imagine doing the same. but i go on like the tide refuses to keep receding like bears refuse to hide in their caves forever like you refuse to give in no matter how hard they try to make you i go on. but i am afraid that in the morning when i wake up you will not be there or, like a shell your body will remain but your feelings for me will finally finish their crawling out leaving me an empty beach with only footprints to mark your passing. and i know that when nighttime comes there will be another day but i am afraid that when daylight comes there won’t be another you.