I have to hold it All. Until I die.Until the Earth ends.
Until my bones break from the weight.
Every sign says to kill it.
Every warning says to end it.
That is why I hold it.
The Idle Knife. The Empty Pistol.
The bullet feels so light to everyone who claims they've felt it.
But they don't know the weight of it.
How could they in the first place?
In lou if it all being more than I can bare
I will keep it like a secret.
I will cling to it just as it clings to me.
It haunts me in hallways.
It crushes me daily.
It follows me home and takes its place
in my room-
above my bed
under my pillow
then into my mind
It travels into my soul and
sinks deep into my bones.
and you take away
but this time
the loss feels like a mistake
was I the one meant to break?