the corner of 45th and red river.

careful, now. we're knee deep in something resembling those lives we cast aside when he died, picking thorns from paws and crowns like pesky habits we couldn't break. we can't seem to stand up straight or help each other through, turning to our own self-worth for guidance and, once again, genuinely failing.

come on, i promise, if you drag me out of that residual fear of needing someone, i'll be sure to pull you from the grasp of needing anything at all. we'll sing the whole way home, because what's the world without broken halos around our hearts and feeble methods of obtaining eye contact.

throwing the change in my pockets into the air, i spin around in the middle of the front yard, fiddling with that necklace that i always wear since the rain started to pound.

go back a few days, darlin', we were in my car, resounding the most brilliant man that either of us had ever met, stating the pickle we are in, waxing on how both of us are rather difficult people, wondering how anyone ever put up with either of us.

but we have each other, and honey, right now, that's all we got. i'm not about to let you go, headfirst, into the world without reminding you of the elliptical advice you gave me. "we've got a lot in common, i've been realizing. we've got it good. that doesn't make it any easier."

go on then, headfirst, swandive, fuckin' cannonball, i'm right behind you whether or not these assholes like it or want to put up with either of us.