The idea of you being gone is a curse

that keeps me awake. I lie, watching you sleep.

I hope I die first.

You’re breathing, your heart bursts

with blood and runs to your lungs. I close my eyes and plead.

The idea of you being gone is a curse.

You’re my rock, my ride or die, my earth.

Without you, what’s there in life to keep?

I hope I die first.

I touch your cheek and cry while you sleep. There’s nothing worse

than you not breathing one day. I close my eyes and weep.

The idea of you being gone is a curse.

So please don’t go, cause I’d be hurt.

Your life is so special, so sure, so much you’ll learn. I stumble. My life is steep.

I hope I die first.

I hug you tightly. I rest and I press on your chest. It works

when I feel you breathe, when I see your dreams. I hear your heartbeat.

The idea of you being gone is a curse.

I hope I die first.