Wait, What?

This is me forcing myself to write.
I exist, I exist.
When she came along it all turned white.
But now I can't see shit.
But I like it.
I get nervous when I dwell in the present. Because it's too fun and I think about the future sometime. Not the tomorrow future but the tomorrow that comes in a year.
When I take my dog on walks I walk where no one can see me.
Where no one can see me walking.
The floor's the only copper crown we need.
Until we find a red, red rose to put in a vase.
And fill the vase with water.
Then when the rose dies we hang it upside down so the color stays and it dries and we can keep it in a box.
Is "we" we or more like me?
I apologize, we.

Wait, what?