What would I do, if that were you,
learning about death, in a classroom?
If I had to hope and pray and wait and see if our wonted goodbye, at the gate, was our
last.

What would I do, if that were you
emptied like the shells scattered under tiny chairs -
passed - 
alone and scared, wanting me, wondering why I’m not there to take away your pain. 

What would I do, if that were you, 
running from men, with evil intent? 
If I had to keep you quiet, pleading, needing, lying that it's a game, that I can keep you - 
safe.

What would I do, if that were you, 
listening in the dark for footsteps, waiting for violence, 
your face -
staring back in final bloody silence, holding my gaze in betrayal. 

What would I do, if that were you -
trapped in a tower, devoured by fire?
If my choices were to pick your death - to choke on smoke or drop - and hope you land,
whole. 

What would I do, if that were you, 
and I had to let go of your hand? 
Your soul - 
leaving mine with a lurch, searching wildly for your anchor. 

What would I do, if that were you, 
with drips and drains stuck in your veins?
If I had to watch your body dim you, eat you alive, while I had to survive?
Continue. 

What would I do, if that were you, 
and I could never, 
bring you, 
back? Your lack a black hole in my heart consuming everything that ever was. 

What would I do, if that were you, 
in the coach, on the ride, caught by the tide?
If I lost you to your life, on a trip, and you slip from my grasp and you’re -
gone. 

What would I do, if that were you, 
if it were me getting the call, screaming 
they're wrong? 
Not you. Because I would have felt you leave me, heard your farewell.

What would I do, if that were you,
in a place ripped by war, gore, and more your eyes shouldn't see?
If I had to pick between a bomb, 
or boat. 

What would I do, if that were you,
at the mercy of waves and greed and cold and fate - 
afloat
face down and drifting out of reach, to an indifferent beach where I will never find you. 

What would I do, if that were me, 
living between breaths, at the top of my lungs 
scared to breath deep, to sleep, to wake, to make a mistake, to choose, to lose you -
living in the freezing seizing no-man’s-land of ‘what if’ 
a looping gif I can't escape, that shapes my days and nights - 
and yours.

The open jaws of doom loom over me and block your light -
and in the dark I walk a tight-rope of sinew from my heart,
stretching round my neck like a noose.
Terror runs loose, ruling supreme - its soundtrack,
a scream in waiting. 

What would I do, if that were me, 
and I could not see
an end, 
to every, gritty, grating end ringing true, behind my eyes? 

What would I do?