You and Me

It’s the words we don’t say,
The space we don’t fill,
The things we don’t do,
The guts we don’t spill,

It’s everything we’ve never done,
And every race we’ve never run,
And everything happy; everything fun,
And every trigger on every gun,

It’s all the emptiness, the place where Nothing sits,
That picks us up and grinds us to bits,
And makes sure every puzzle piece fits,
And tells us when it’s time to call it quits,

It’s in our bones,
And it’s in our blood,
And it’s in every face
Stained with tears and mud,

That is that and that is this,
It’s the things in life we’ll always miss,
It is; it isn’t; it’s never been,
It’s the some-things and the thing-somes and all the sin,

It’s number two when it should have been one,
It’s the strands of life coming undone,
It’s every nothing we never begun,
One is all; all is none.

It’s you
It’s me
It’s us and we
It’s the dream that can never be
The bird that'll never fly free
The river that never meets the sea
It’s us and we
It’s you and me.

But most of all,
It’s you and me.