The skeletons of clocks will always haunt these hallways
And I can never remember anything you said to me
I suppose the problem is the rope around my neck
Never mind the fact that you’re the floor under my feet
Maybe I just hate the idea that everything I touch here could become a memorial
All for a lost soul who never learned how to properly read a map
But I think I’m just scared of my candle burning out before its lit
I’m tired of the silverware tied to my wrist and the paperclips under my fingernails
We walk on eggshells and all we ever do is **** our own young
You hurt me more than anyone and my lungs still bleed everyday
This is not on me I blame you both for it but not for the tremors in my hands
I still remember that hospital room
And the twenty seven hooks that held up the curtain
Those condescending looks stick with you
After all I’m just another stupid kid spilling his guts all over your floor
I still remember that the part that hurt the most
Was when they took all the pain away
And I think about that a lot more than I should
Maybe that says things about me that I could never tell you
There are a lot of things that I have trouble saying
And I’ve never been fond of needles
Or the bed they told me I was meant to sleep in
This is not my own creation I know I didn’t work for this
I was aiming for the church bells and all I hit was the flagpole
Can you still fall asleep without my skin these days
Do you find yourself lying in bed reaching towards the ceiling
Almost as if you could cradle the stars in your hands
Because I do and I like to think you’re doing the same
*~W.C.