Spending Life, Not Time.

If words could explain the way the sun rises
-And capture sunlight piercing the horizon
If writing cannot convey my heart’s desires,
-And contain within every drop of passion.
Then might own emotions as best as they may,
Share without conviction, accolade or disdain;
The sadness you give as joy you bring.

For they find themselves forced to interrogate,-
Why you love me less today, than yesterday.
And it seems the louder their voices scream,
The more paranoia creeps in, destroying me.

Perhaps it is a crime to obsess over you so,
-See in you the world, then nothing at all.
And maybe, just maybe I'll soon decide,
-Whether you’re for life, or just this night.

But if we continue spending time, not life.
Implore more space than we can ever retain
And are obliged to sacrifice our own lives,
Then I bid the morning and night never come.

Because every burden bears it's heavy weight,
And the pressure of sharing precious time,-
Was perhaps a little too arduous to face.
So instead let us be, and more each other long.

To once again make each other laugh,
And hold you near-forever in my arms,
Impervious to the hour and minute hand,
Love's roots will grow and take hold.
And within this we might ourselves find,
Spending life. Not time.