would you contact me then
if my insides were outside?
if I were drowning in a canoe
in the East River,
would you text me something blue?
is this never forever
or just for now?
with your name scarred on my arm,
I bet we kiss again in the middle
of my murder.
this is not freedom from love;
it is prison from living.
if I don't make it another year,
know you were my forever love
and temporary fear.