{maybe if i fall asleep i won't breathe right}

maybe there is no me.

and no you.

and no us.

but there is space camp.

and i am space camp.

and you are space camp.

and yes love; we could be space camp.

they threw bricks, and bricks.

and more bricks.

and those bricks hit me so hard.

and i woke up

coughing up all my dreams;

the ones coated in blood and disappointment and hysteria.

the ones that don't have any pictures.

i tried to paint them

but they didn't seem real enough.

and my tears smeared and made the ink bleed and wrinkled the paper;

and it was kind of beautiful.

and my bones told me to shut up and stop thinking so much

and then i started to live.

breathing wasn't so bad anymore.

"just follow me," you'd say.

(in. out. in. out.)

and things got easier.

or maybe i just stopped caring so much.

and i was happy you know...

the smile wasn't glued and my heart was red. (a good kind of red)

the ink from our pen moved mountains and the universe expanded 

ever. so. slightly.

we painted photographs of the future and erased the definition of "beautiful" and "perfect".

we traveled through time and space 

and left little pieces of us where we went so everyone would see.

we are the art that people talk about and take pictures of. 

the tourists just passing through our story.

"it's okay i don't mind, i've got you." you told me as 

they mechanically walked back and forth and back and forth and back and forth... 

and we fell in love over and over and over again.

"i'm going to space camp," i said to you last night.

and you laughed a little as you kissed me.

"we're already there" you whispered.

and i smiled because i knew.