Not a suicide

I could see it getting to you
like it got to me.
The same symptoms we displayed
on that tragic day of amnesty.
You were still full of life,
still playing your part,
I was a broken record
with a dying heart.
How it passed, like a disease
is still a mystery unknown.
Just know that passing the sickness
was the final blow for me.
I simply couldn’t let you go,
when for the first time I matched;
the same hysteria and unsalvageable mind,
my insanity craved company
and you filled that hole comfortably.
We were meant to be,
meant to coexist
and then die happily.
And don’t worry, I’ll forgive you.
No one can blame your cowardice
as I pulled us to our watery end.
The world will still know,
of our heroic act of bravery.
We were too happy to be suicidal,
and too philosophical to live
within the boundaries of a conforming society
When will you see?
That too break free,
we had to become more than just we.