poem?

[vincenoir]

if we had kept going over the bay bridge
you said once it'd be nice to die from
but the problem with a beautiful death is
i'm afraid you'd land face first
and your last memory would be of rushing downward
not of the blue sky pulling away
things could not have been different.
i will soon be between brick walls in a bed
with only myself and some cut outs
with horns and trash and beating sun surrounding
trying to organize my supplies and my thoughts.
i definitely thought we got along well
and i didnt let myself go
because i knew what you would do and you did
and you were right, $60 was nothing for a night
where we felt content with hands and eyelashes
in a sandy bed and ice cold and sweat
and nothing but breathing.
we always woke up, both, seven, for closer touch
then twirl me back to sleep and closed eyes.
did you ever notice?
but maybe it'd be nice to let myself love
despite the consequences and injuries
because in the end isnt it always painful anyway?
if i wasnt so afraid of myself and my spontaneity
and if i hadnt known exactly where today leaves us
and maybe if we both didnt have so much heavy carry-on
maybe
i could have loved you