Friday, October 24, 2014

Before You

It scares me how hard it is to remember life before you,
before you dipped your feet into my sunny shade of cobalt blue.
Before our hearts exploded and we became one, or two, or three,
before we swam, or let's say floated, in the Mediterranean sea.

I struggle to remember what it was really like, or if it even was,
the silence in my lungs, dead by suffocation the probable cause.
Before we said what we said thousands of feet in mid, stale air,
and me, free falling, catching fire; a furiously famished flare.

Before our earth map and all the unscratched places to visit,
the temptations to buy an around the world one way ticket.
Before our lips curiously collided and recreated the big bang,
and because I can't whistle, (although I try), instead I sang.

So yes, it seems foolish now to play this game of better or worse,
seeing how this life can never be truly lived remotely in reverse.
Still, it's a little bit funny, how with everything I had to go through,
I still can't seem to remember life before you.