rooftops are where you forgot about me.
you were up so high—
you didn't think to look down at my face.
while you were on rooftops,
i was kneeling on the ground,
wondering when you'd return.
but you simply glanced over the precipice,
knowing full well, that
you were never coming back.

Does my heart hurt?
Or simply my pride?

I honestly thought,
that you were the right guy.

Sure, you talk a lot.
But you have a lot to say.

And you saw the sorrow,
that I tried not to display.

Yet you trust fact and science,
more than you could ever trust God.

You completely allured me:
achievements and flaws.

Was I just one of many options,
that you cast to the side?

Perhaps you were an iceberg I steered clear of...
but how exciting would it have been




to collide?

there’s something hard in my heart.
could it be a tumor? a mass?
no, it’s worse than that.
it’s doubt.

all-consuming, destructive doubt,
that eats away at my sternum and ribs,
disorienting me at every chance it gets.

doubt catches me in the undertow,
and throws me every which way,
until I ask myself:
"why did I want to swim in the first place?"

You Talk, i listen.
That’s the way this works.

You ramble and You monologue,
while i keep my lips pursed.

i wonder if You’ll notice,
i haven’t said a word..

But you simply entertain Yourself,
and i remain unheard.

People tell me to live like every day is my last.

But that’s not what life is for.
Life is for believing. Believing that you will have tomorrow.
Believing that tomorrow isn’t just a prospect, but an imminence.

I can picture every horrible scenario, every improbable tragedy:
Car crash, heart attack, kidnapping—
But if I’m always wondering if I’ll meet my death tomorrow,
I’m not living at all.

Life is slow and arduous and not everyday is extraordinary.
Most days are forgotten.

But the ones that aren’t…
the days that you’ll think about when you’re really dying,
they only have value because they’re numbered.

And even though we spend our lives reflecting on
and recording those sensational memories,
I’m grateful for every useless day and hour and minute I had.

Because I love living like every day is not my last.