Waiting

I'm imagining all the things that could have happened.

A crash,

A fight,

Anything and everything that could cause me to lose you on some twisting turning back road.

And then I would be begging for money, if only to see you one last time. Flying away for the very last time. Trying to understand everything, and understanding nothing at all.

And I would kiss you, the sting of formaldehyde taking away the sweet sensations of memories.

Black is not my color. So please please please.

Come home tonight.