we had learned to survive.
to get past the accident.
when we both emerged alive,
we heard “you share these lungs, now learn to breath.”
when we first came through the night,
did you expect to come out all intertwined?
so messed up and mangled and unaligned?
i couldn't see how we could come out any stronger,
but we had learned to.

when we first came through the night,
we learned we'd have to divide,
but I could tell, though I couldn't understand why,
the muscles you took for yours were also mine.
no I couldn't see.

and I've had friends for whom loneliness
was an unfulfilling, consuming monster.
an ever expanding void the size of the universe.
and I know first hand how it can feel,
when you're torn wide open, those scars still bleeding,
it's somewhere I once hoped I'd never have to go back to,
but sometimes you have to,
so we have learned to.