Finishing songs.

The fragility of your skin, the circuits of your body wear so thin.
You don’t look like the last time you smiled at me,
it was the last time you told me you were happy,
it was the last time you told me not to worry.
But now you’re breaking backs just to sit up,
as you hold my hand, it’s the first human touch you’ve had
since the Nurses rounds, where her cold hand woke you from your dreams of sailing homeward bound.
If I am lost, then I can’t be found.

Now my visions come measured unequally
a chorus of death more than love it seems
As I see old friends before me as a banquet of ghosts without breath or speech
A company of wolves, we were as thick as thieves
A company of wolves who now rarely speak.
But my heart still beats with them, every last one of them
and as our old conversations resonate against old ballroom walls
out into the cityscape singing
If I am lost, then I can’t be found.

I dream of being held like a figurine
where your fingers would intertwine right through me
as if I were your childhood memory
Forever sunshine, cotton socked naivety
carve me out of all those things,
carve me out of childhood dreams.
Because it all feels so far removed from everything that I am used to
Just clenching teeth and grinding through the hard days and empty nights
we wait for our hearts to play tuneful.
If I am lost, then I can’t be found.

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