Shadows dance through the fence as a lone car
turns the corner, and again is is just you and me.
Under the moon; sparkling among the sprinklers,
a boy and an a girl look into each other's eyes
for those joyful and painful memories so perfect
to share and never be left to feel and bear alone.

A siren sounds from deep in another world.
An unseen door is closed, double locked, while we
Shed the who, what, when, where, and why.
But we know all too well how.
We again illegally seek solace in each other.
Consolation? it could be, but to force unwanted
consolation may just leave us unconsolable.

Our world before us holds it's breath, hardly moved
except in the chaos where breath is short.
For us there, to live seemed like dying.
One day something clicked, we blinked, her and me;
and when our eyes opened we saw our haven.
All we dreamed of, hoped and fought for stood before us,
not before you, nor me, but us.

There is a pregnant, tentative pause before a new beginning,
Life itself pauses, watches, waits. Grows silent.
And we hold our breath.

We have apprehension, not fear. From this moment,
whatever happens, however it unfolds from now on
we will never be the same ever again.
We loved freeing our demons, talking dark nights away.
With each word we shed a leaf, pulled a thorn,
and finally blossomed, sharing our painful weights
to much stronger and newly healed shoulders,
eager to gladly bear some of the burden.

The present pushes back the past,
the life of tears, regret and scars that will last.
It then draws us toward the future,
The life of cleansing, healing, redemption and us.
Not exactly Heaven, Hell or Earth,
but the simple space in-between.

We have to hurry or we might miss our chance,
we begin to gather our scattered memories.
Little glass puzzle pieces of our hurt hearts,
we have to be careful not to lose one in ourselves
or we will always miss it dearly.
And we hold our breath.

Under the streetlight we see the truth,
ourselves without our happy masks we hide behind.
What we always wanted and hoped for,
in the midst of our lowered guard faces;
what we always ran from, denied and feared.

Now is the moment we have to choose:
do we take a leap of faith into the unknown,
to become more broken or given a chance at salvation?
Or do we continue to hold our breath,
and always wonder what could have happened?

Our time is almost up, I can almost feel it passing.
I look at you once more and hold you still and frozen,
and when you look at me, I know what you have chosen.
And we hold our breath.

Before us a door opens, and to enter
we only have to do two things:
The first is to take breath away,
and then, harder by far.
To have our breath taken away.