Dolor: Poetry of the unspoken

If You Were Mine

If you were mine,
I would never let you take me to a fine dine.
Not under the chandelier crystalline,
But on the grass where stars are alive.

We'd go to places where laughters can be heard,
Not where the clang of glasses of some ladies and a man with a beard.
We'd ride a seesaw where when one feels heavy, one lifts the other.
I'd never let our adult lives take over,
Instead, we will relive our childhood natures together.

We'd bite into each other's hotdogs like what's one is also the other's.
We'd talk under the shade of dancing greens,
Talk not about our future, but our childhood memories.
Run around the fields with sunburnt skin,
Or dance under the rain until our souls are healed.

We'd stop by a kid's store and I'll buy you some legos,
Then we'll play it together, I'm the villain and you're the hero.
We'd watch horror movies and I'll laugh when you scream.
We won't be having pizzas, instead we'll get Ice cream.

I'll grab your legs under the bed,
And I'll just hug you when you bump your head.
You can hide behind the shoulder you lean onto when you cry,
And let you wake me up when going to the bathroom few ours after midnight.

I'd laugh when you forgot to bring a towel while taking a bath,
Till you get pissed off and chase me around the house after you finally got your hands on that.
And I'll let you get upset over little things and I'll give you comfort in my embrace.

If you were mine,
I will let you forget time.
I'll never let you force yourself to be an oak tree,
But I'll let you be a little seed again, back when you were never forced to grow when you weren't supposed to.
Because, honey, I don't want us to just grow old with each other,
I want to heal the broken parts of us that were never taken care of, together.