Darling

I really thought I could stay away.

I didn’t need you, I was enough alone.

But moments of you and you and you

caught me, trapped me, and now I’m yours.

On the day your car stalled, and you slammed the door,

with posture sharp and swearing sharper,

there was nothing I could do in the moment, as I realized

you were. Just were, not more, not less, you were.

And the day that you laughed, when you laughed,

loud and sudden, surprised and happy.

Something struck you funny, and

the sound was a sweet slap in the face.

Or the day with wind blowing, hand shielding, cigarette glowing,

and I told you, Those things kill you, you know. Bad way to die.

You smirked at me, disaster that you are, and replied,

Darling, everyone has to die of something.

But the day you kissed me was the final straw.

It wasn’t the taste of your nicotine lips, or the touch of your hands.

No, when your mouth was on mine,

I’d never been so certain that I was real.

And now, darling, I’d burn cities for you.

I would do anything, everything, that you asked me to.

I find myself drawn to you, nothing I can do.

You’re right (oh, so right) and I’m nothing but left,

though I, by myself, am just empty.

And now, darling, I’d burn the world itself if you asked.

Everything about you drags me in.

Your laugh and your grin, your tears and your anger.

You’re blazing and fierce, a rich, righteous fire.

You’re a rock-and-roll song and I have you blasting, windows down.

And now, darling, I’d burn myself for you.

You are a road labeled Danger Ahead,

an obvious crash course, with neon lights flashing.

I can’t breathe and I couldn’t care less.

A hot summer day with temperature rising.

It gets harder and harder to gasp in air,

but darling, everyone has to die of something.