our days are numbered.
i lament in all the time left in the world,
say it's meant just for us,
and it is.
but as manmade as time is,
everything ends and forever folds itself
over and over and into nothing
and our days are numbered.
i saw the world at twenty eight,
your intoxication waking up a sun
lost somewhere in the back of my mind
and everytime i have seen you since,
i want to kiss you.
i want to kiss you so bad
i am physically incapable of not,
screaming "this is it!" as the rain stops
and the skies clear
and our days are still numbered.
some say everything will end in fire
and some claim it will be ice
and that's not a thought i don't think of,
because i think of it too much,
but now i think of the days with you.
they're numbered.
and i count them down
like scripture,
talley marks on cement walls but
you touch my hand and i stop,
calculator seizing to add the digits.
because our days are numbered
and it scares me
but you listen to as to why
and stop the fears
because even if our days are numbered,
i know you'll sit with me at the end.
