Sickness

February 15, 2015

If you were to ever get sick

And start to lose sight

Or breath

Or maybe even hair

I know that I'd be there

I'd be the one to call you every morning

And every night

To make sure you're okay

And I'd make sure to make days where you'd feel nothing but young

I'd slow dance with you without any music

I'd write you hand written letters

And if your last days were to come

I'd hold you in my arms

As you'd grow pale

And stagnant

As everything inside of you decreased

I'd still be there

As you'd breathe your last arms

I'd hold you

And I'd hold you

And I would never let go

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