will you love me until the bitter end?

when my bones are broken and my words have failed me?

will you still remember the way I looked on the first night you saw me?

when I have lost my mind, and not because of the poetry or the rhyme scheme, but because dementia will take me down and I may forget you

will you always promise to hold me close?

on days when I can’t stand to look at your face or hear your voice – and there will be days, oh, I promise you, there will be days.

will you call out for me in the middle of the night when you are laying next to her?

because everything we dreamed, is for dreaming.

we don’t wake up next to each other anymore

but I still feel the weight of your soul on my pillow

Past

my past is my past

and I do not apologize for one single second of the loves and losses I have faced

so if you come here in the mad hope that you will find me curled up in a ball, lamenting over the things and people I have lost,

turn back now

I always burned too bright for those who did not have the courage to run their fingers through my soul and stay