still breathing, love

"(I see the numbers too, you know./ I see them till half past nine./ They don't go away; I just sleep/ to help consume the time.)"
This was made for reading in to.

Your collarbones are razors;
the irony of it all.
You want more of less,
I hear your bones' call.

But we're still breathing, love
Don't let them count our breaths.
We're still breathing, love
Don't let them let you forget.

Dreamcatchers are just feathers;
your ribs are feathers too.
Don't let them burn your wings
 - it'll let them burn you through.

And the night is constellations bright,
But I love shooting stars.
Can't let them get too close to me, though
Because I love the burns, the scars.

Don't time the air you breathe in,
Don't time when you breathe out.
It gives them satisfaction, see,
When you cry out in doubt.

(I see the numbers too, you know.
I see them till half-past nine.
They don't go away; I just sleep
to help consume the time.)

We'll travel the world, just you and I,
when they've let us go.
Just you and me (so happily)
between the stars and snow.

And when facts turn into colour
we'll celebrate all we've done.
I'll take you out, we'll eat dinner
and make snowflakes with scissors for fun.

I know it's deathly scary;
I'm frightened too.
Life - without them - 
Is it too good to be true?

But we're still breathing, love
We'll stop counting our breaths.
When my skin is clean and yours is full
we'll know what to do next.

The End

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