Roots Before Branches

I'll Write

I like walking Helsinki's city streets,
As the Aurora Borealis dance above me.
My phone starts to ring but I do not answer,
Not when this could lead to our happily ever after.
In that moment when lust melts into love,
In that moment when we become us,
I want to scratch a poetic itch, take out a pen, and write all about this.

Captivated by this need to document every single breath I take,
I wonder if I'll look back at my writing someday,
Will I feel sorry for the man who wrote it or would I laugh with him in solidarity?
Held for ransom by a force heinously strong,
I think I've had Stockholm syndrome all along.

I like walking Budapest's ancient streets,
Enamoured by Europe's fascinating history.
I wonder if they'll ever tell the story of us like they do all of these ruined churches,
Will our words ever be worth it?
Worth a shot at storytelling,
A fairytale with a happy ending.
I can only hope that what we have will stand the test of time,
As I feel the clock ticking and it's terrifying.

We had the world's worst fight in Manhattan,
I cursed words I have always regretted.
Even in those moments when I thought our pages ran out of ink,
I had an urge to stop, write and think;
Think about how good of a story this will be one day,
To think about how I could use this moment in my poetry.
And I know that's borderline immoral and a heinous invasion of privacy,
I can't help but want to create art for you; you're a catalyst to my creativity.

I'll write about our graduation in two years time,
We'll throw our caps up and I'll sit down to write.
I'll write about our wedding day; even if we have separate ones.
I'll be so proud of you; we'll dance the blues away; we'll have fun.
And I'll write with heartache between my words when the day comes; as I'm delivering my eulogy at our last goodbye,
Between the tears in my eyes,
I'll write, for one last time, and I'll smile, for one last time,
Honouring my parter in crime.