Make or Metastasize

My breaths have become heavy

sodden and dense

With stories I can never tell you

Truths I can never clothe

Lest you fade into footnotes and thens

All writers are liars you know.

The heart beats for a world that isn't

And the weight of if onlys

mark the wages of love

So I choose not

to write our ending

and read myself by candlelight.

Let them all find their end in me.