Alone

Why are we born alone

why do we die alone

if we are not meant to be alone?

Are my hands even mine,

if your fingers are not entangled

with my fingers?

My mornings could not possibly

be the same, without you to wake up to;

the sun bouncing off your unshaven face

and your arm wrapped limply by my side.

My brain would be different,

if your name was replaced

with a lonely hum.

You give me the crows feet

next to my eyes

and my lips would never feel the same

without yours being the only pair on my menu.

My heart could be analogous to that

of my broken finger nails

if I could not call you mine.

And I don’t think,

that my bedroom floor

would ever be as warm or welcome

if it was not your jeans laying around.

My coffee would always be bitter

if I never again got to share a cup with you.

And running a mile or fifty

would make no difference to my lungs,

as I am always out of breath

when I look at you.

Why are we born alone

why do we die alone

if without you,

I am not me?