memoirs of a poet

inspired by some quote i saw about loving something or someone like an atheist loves God – perhaps misinterpreted but oh well its 2:24am and i miss posting on here

It was the Accident
It was not on purpose
You did not mean it
It was out of your hands
But I was next to you
I heard your whispered prayer
I noticed the quiver in your voice
You don’t even believe in Him you say
You do nothing for divinity
His or mine 
But you pray to something 
and I watch you like a child
You ask me if it’s going to be okay
As if I would know
I don’t know
You grasp at my hand 
You are trembling under our descent
I had not seen you like this in years
I had been in your seat with nothing to grab at
While you were in the cockpit 
Unaware of the chaos preceding you
Was I dependable now
Could I be dependable
May I 
I whispered to you meekly
"Could we try for this?—
Maybe—"
You still hadn’t let go of me
Your fingers bleed into mine 
You murmur your nothings 
Could we have it
At last
Salvation
God, could we have it
I clawed at you again
“Listen baby, maybe 
When we touch ground—
We could try again
You used to hold me—
Even when you did not need to
Even when there was nothing to hold
You had faith in me—
You had faith in us 
You had me
Please could we—”

Imaan