no matter what time it is
you are in the back of my head
you do your best work
when you whisper

and did i lie?
i called it poetic license
an excuse, one of many

today.
a monday
but it looked like a friday
i miss you
and i keep stumbling
just to make you smile

i just want it
to be
perfect.

on the dotted line,
the one on my palm
just sign it
we'll make it all official
absolute

i'm scared
can you hear me shaking?
mistake it for my heartbeat

the smell of black
equivalent to happiness
but somehow you don't agree

this is cancer
at least,
i wish it were