A future in a glass

If love was only air—

something I couldn’t hold,

I breathed it in like fire

and called it something whole.

At the table, I’m waiting,

with the future in my glass,

watching shadows rearrange

every moment that has passed.

Where is my answer now?

Did it fall or did it fade?

Where is my truth tonight—

in the promises we made?

I saw it in your mind,

like a fracture in the light,

a life that could’ve been

if we survived the night.

But the tale is twisted thin,

a serpent shedding skin,

whispers crawling up the walls—

“Don’t let it begin.”

Get down, get down

from your fragile crown,

we were never meant to wear

what never weighed us down.

Headed north through the cold,

where the dead stars glow,

if there’s a path at all

it’s one we’ll never know.

Take me all the way—

I’ve got no prayer left to speak,

just a hunger in my chest

and your name on repeat.

Still I’ll make it there,

dragging bones through the flame,

if you’re somewhere in the dark

calling out my name.

Take my hand—if it’s real,

if it’s blood, if it’s bone,

we’ll march into the void

like we’re not alone.

Alone—together,

in the echo, in the end,

where the light burns out

and the truth won’t pretend.