I wonder how many songs these trees on the side of the highway have heard. Because I’ve passed them a thousand times. And each time I have a different voice. 

I bet they remember the way the tires crushed the snow beneath us and the way the car doors vibrated with every word you ever said. They’d talk of the wrong turns we took on purpose and where we ended up. And how I’d give anything to never have to leave. I wonder if they would remember your promises and your swears and cross your hearts. They’d probably tell me of the rear view mirrors and what we left behind.  I gave you my heart and you gave me your word. And that was enough for me. For once. 

I wonder what stories they’d tell me if I asked. If I had a spare second maybe I’d stop and listen. 

I’d run red lights to follow you another mile.  

I’m afraid of storms. And you leaving. And waking up alone in an empty house. And the way you look at me when you don’t know what to say. I’m afraid of fights with good friends and flickering lights at night. I’m afraid of always sleeping alone and never matching up with your eyes at midnight. When I can’t see the moon behind the clouds. I’m afraid of losing you to the gravity of what’s to come. I’m afraid of cold bedrooms and empty car seats, unread letters and unsaid feelings. 

But more than anything I’m afraid of myself without you.