untitled, but you know what i mean

if you said “go,”

i wouldn’t ask where. wouldn’t stop to pack a bag or lock the door, just run—half-dressed, half-awake, half-holy— breathless and reckless, feet barely touching the ground. it doesn’t matter where we settle down. 

could be a city that swallows us whole, neon signs glowing like a secret we almost understand. could be a highway with no end, your hand on the wheel, my feet on the dash, humming to the tune of the radio buzz. could be a house we build from the scraps of our own hearts. 

the world turns cold but we burn right through it. 

if we stay:

if we sink into the bones of this place, if time stretches out like tired fabric, if our days come soft and slow or sharp and unforgiving, i love you. 

i love you in the silence, love you in the noise,  

love you when your hands stop reaching for mine. 

when the world turns to static nothing makes sense except for the fact that you are here, and so am i.  

we could leave. we could stay. we could forget everything and start over a hundred times. your legs shaking, my heart racing, i’ve never been so sure.