Paint it black

You're suffocating something inside me
some strain of grief
rooted in love long lost
abandoned in favor of cordial companionship
of vacuous compliments
and mutual ambivalence

It's a struggle to keep calm
when your hand is on my chest
and the world's weight washes away
when suddenly I'm back in that six year old self
composing the same damn words
the same damn desire to love

We are the composite composition
six-year-old Rip-Van-Winkles
waking up to find that everything is as it was
that though we've traveled through time
there are still only a few questions worth asking
a few answers worth receiving

It's those night terrors that keep us hesitant
those hundred years spent dreaming
spent splashing black
till the darkness drags us down
it's those mornings when we wake up
alone

You're suffocating something
and I can finally breathe
take those big boy breaths
between big boy sobs
noiseless things that make my arms tremble
holding you against the coming of a new day