not mature for your age

you never know a good thing before you lose it,

but to never lose you doesn't mean to say i'll never love you 

immeasurable endearment spurs with every gentle caress,

relishing in the fumes of soul-to-soul contact

forever will be gone soon,

false promises are worth my hand in yours

i can't fight it anymore than you,

keep me here and lose yourself similarly 

your loss is the end of life,

together, we rot in warmth

silent and fading

silently, and knowingly in love