looking through your window!

that was a brief moment where I promised myself not to die walking down avenues and looking into your window tips I saw the dreams that my Father had when the lights were on and in that kitchen I watched you through the glass. you were a dying me and I am sorry that I didnt. the last promise I ever made the last way I can die the last things she typed onto. no more leaping she warns from above, no more dying she screams, again from above. we quickly escaped away from the glass together but with our heads down, "wait for me or something". but it was already past and with knife in hand I jumped baby and ran through she knows and cut bark and chiseled skin. "and nobody wants your 'less death!'" I screamed when I went into that concrete shadow garden.