Sitting here and talking,

knowing exactly what we mean,

by our secret code talk.

Fighting back these tears,

by singing inside of my head.

Distract these thoughts,

from what is happening right here.

I know, this won’t work for long.

You stare at me,

this awkward silence,

you are about to break.

“Will you look at this real quick?”

And we pretend again,

like the conversation we just had,

was just any  other.

I want to ask you,

how you would feel if I was not here,

if I became another life lost in the crowd,

and you would never deal with me again.

“ Sure.” I say, reading patiently.

I look up occasionally into your eyes,

looking for some kind of stopping place,

to ask you if you could live,

without me here.

There is this urge deep down,

to fight this,

to fight you letting go.

What is my life without you?

A sequence of days smudged together,

is that supposed to mean something?

Every day will be like the last,

dead, dull eyes staring into nothing.

I want to ask you if you could live without me,

‘cause I don’t know if I can live without you.