If The World Was Ending

If the world was ending tomorrow huh?

I haven't really given it much thought before.
You know..since I stopped thinking about you.
Since it stopped raining rainbows.
Since it stopped snowing galaxies.
Since the clouds seemed out of reach. Since the wind was no longer there to lift me off my feet.

Just stopped;
Abruptly.

∆

Maybe I would've bought a dozen balloons,
or baked some cookies.
Skipped over the puddles and splashed water everywhere,
thrown away my umbrella and risked a little fever,
had a little ice cream even though it's winter.

What if you rained on me like spring showers?

Maybe the grass would appear a little greener. Maybe the sky would seem a bit bluer.
The sun may feel brighter when setting. The coffee could taste a bit sweeter. December could feel warmer.

You didn't make me hot chocolate this year.

An eternity in a day. Forever in a moment. A lifetime in a second.
A breath is all it takes.

∆

Meteor showers and volcanic mounts. The sky painted red and so would be the earth. Everything will burn. Burn like there's no tomorrow.

Your face would still flash through the corner of my iris.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when your time is up.

∆

Oh. Your face popped up in my dream the other night. I woke up smiling. I can clearly recall the miniscule dimples at the ends of your lip when you smiled wide. Your eyes crinkling in mirth.
Your uneven teeth on full display.
The freckles splashed across your face making up for the starless nights.
It was just.. same old you.

It made me want to run away.
Run away to you.

However, I would probably put on mismatched shoes, forget to slip on a coat,
and run across the street, across that park, across that ginormous building that you thought would engulf the sky one day.

I'd run past that old bakery you thought smelled nice, past that flower shop you used to stop and stare at when walking down the street. Might even dash past that oak tree. The one you fell from when you were a kid, scraped your knee and won't stop crying. Maybe I'd even catch a glimpse of you in the reflection of the giant mirror like windows of that underconstruction building. It's complete now though, people can be seen bustling in and out, they all have places to be or people to please. I remember how you used to make faces infront of the windows, with your tongue stuck out and eyes wide open,
you were still the prettiest.

I won't miss a place that carried your trace.

It was as if this city had safely tucked you away in its every nook and cranny.

I would feel out of breath and wonder a thousand what ifs per second,
but I'd dash to our old apartment, and push the door wide open because you never bothered to repair the hinges.
I'd kick off my shoes and rush inside, to open all the windows and let the wind inside.