you washed the salt out of my eyes
you stomped your feet, refused goodbyes
you burned my books when I tried to write
and set up traps to catch me in the night

I followed your steps up to the cliff
and tried to recall how it felt to live
before this cage of you that I elated
when this infinity could not be sated

So many steps seen from where I stood
so much bad diminished so much good
and those lies were always easier to tell
before that mention of where he fell

A push that was but kinetic emotion
who cried the tears, formed the ocean?
Your own were dried long before this last
and your steps have penned me in the past.