For you

I'd try

If we'd go on dates, I'd teach you how to treat women, coming from a woman.

You'd teach me how to treat myself and I'd laugh, then later I'd apologise for the disturbance.

You'd teach me how to listen and I'd teach you how to talk.

I'd feel like I'd be still in middle school, just a fool.

I'd throw glitter in your hair, laughter exploding above your head.

When our time has come, you'd double it, say it's worth "two time" and relive everything.

And after you know I can't prove my worth,

After you'll find out,

You'll gather everyone in the room,

And explain to them how I am the latest, brand new type of international crisis.

To love you is to love myself.

Something I really can't bear.

But I love you.

So I will stay till you tell me to leave.

Tell me the truth or tell me I'm wrong.

Climb in your bed and get under the sheets, talk about everything and nothing untill you point to the door and tell me "get out".

It's very, very strange hearing it from your mouth.

My moon, my man, both so changeable and

Bearable, loveable land to me.

My stars, my face, sitting on my knees again.

My moon, not me, it's the dirtiest dream I know.

There’s nowhere to go.

Nowhere to go.

At some point you yelled at me, proof of the broken promise to always be well spoken. You slammed the door shut in my face and I sat in front of it like a weeping dog.

We brought that door together. I paid for it.

Is it my property then? Should I break it down? But it would be a shame, it really would be, it's a pretty door.

So, first, I'm sorry, I murmur against the cold tiles of the hall, the side of my face touching the cool material I try to slip the wrinkled and pitiful apology through the very small space that's between the ground and the door. It reached you. I know it did. And you heard it. But I don't know if you really did.

When you welcome me back inside, I wrap you in my arms and slide down against the door, but now on the right side. On the side you are on. We sit on the mat for a good while, your head tucked under my chin and me holding on tight.

The truth is. I wish I would kiss your cheeks then, your forehead, your hands, your nose and your eyes. Tell you how grateful I really am. But I think I don't understand everything yet either. So I'll just stick to telling you how sorry I am once more. I'd tell you how sorry I am for dying. For even thinking about it.

I would say that I would live

For you.

And I'd keep that promise

For you.