What happened next

It's been a over year since you sat there, with your eyes matching your shirt
a black watch around your wrist, your name the first two syllables I heard
Together they'd form a presently much-cherished word.

If I had no reason to preserve this, then why do I recall it all?
As my eyes tried to stretch out to every corner of the hall
I'd never have guessed you were slowly starting to fall

For me, a girl with nine lives, all made of pencils and poetry
it took a friend's broken anger to finally make me see
That there might be a half-forgotten chance for me.

The chance was short-lived and quickly ruined, and I never went to see your play
I remember the rings around your fingers, but not the words I hoped you'd say
And the confusion over the conclusion: was that a date or merely a day?

Then I turned around and flew away.

For months the paths of our lives were winding and steep,
so we paved them with Caffeine, Sugar and an Unhealthy Amount Of Sleep
But since they never crossed at the right moment I was never yours to keep.

Yet the eternal coffee cup between us - white, impersonal and warm -
would never withold me from grasping your grey wintercoated arm
confused cursing strangers were part of the secret charm.

Like a lighter, newly regained freedom sparked up some well-preserved hope
I phoned you due to drunken courage, thoughts like a kaleidoscope
tension tied us to the kitchen like an electric rope


With my whispered "yes" we submitted to that spark.
And only you understand why my paintings are dark.