stop carrying me.
despite the burning pain that gravel digs
in my heels and palms,
the feeling\'s almost gone
i\'d welcome pins and needles
if they somehow made you dissappear
buried and sinking in the autumn leaves
prying the lipstick from her lifeless, dead hands.
grinning and lying through your teeth,
how far does it get you?
how do you sleep?
i know i can\'t.
get away from me.
what if i suffocate in your arms?
if all the air escapes,
and my pulse slows to a drone?
machines can\'t lie.
stop carrying me.
it doesn\'t help, besides,
my feet work just fine on their own.
the pavement shouldn\'t stop them anymore
and anyway, i think you\'ve held on long enough.
if this doesn\'t hurt, next time i\'ll try harder.
is any of this getting through?
you turn the brightest days to night
and if we pass away, then that\'s all right.
now there\'s nothing there
but some bruises from when i fought for air.
your fingernails are crossed for nothing.
if we\'re the living dead, why start digging again?
it\'s just one more reminder of the life i left behind
i give and i give and i give...