We don’t remember days, we remember moments-
So let me collect a thousand of these, of you
of times when you smiled in the dark.
I could recognise it anywhere.
Don’t mind if I hoard a hundred memories of catching your eye across the room,
the scent of salt, soap and fading cologne.
Times won’t freeze with my smile in the late afternoon sun,
Days will continue to pass,
Time will feel easier, softer somehow.
Would you stay?
Feel it like my fingers running through your hair
Fight it like your worst storm
Your demons will become mine.
Fill my silences with your moans,
your mornings with my giggles and nights with my silent snores.
Your darkness with the sound of my beating heart,
In tune with the heartbreak and pain.
Let me pick you apart like an open wound,
taste the blood- what are you made of?
What are we made of?
moments. moments. moments.
A little broken, falling apart at the seams -
You’re a beautiful mess.
I could walk all over your broken pieces and still pick out shimmer.
You could stay?
All I know is I want to paint my walls with your favourite colour,
Hoard my favourite sound,
the sound of your laughter rolling down my hardwood floors.
Let the days die in too many kisses,
On the tip of my fingers intertwined with your thoughts.
Undress my darkness, it’s our bed.
It’s our funeral.