Running, never pacing myself.
Exhausted. Lonely. Not always alone.
Often wonder what you're doing.

I hold my breath like I hold back tears
And count to ten.
With each number, I only recall memories of better times

By rivers, by lakes, by fires, by friends;
By your side (most importantly)
And you always calling everyone "love"
And how I wished I could be.

Then darkness washes over;
I remember the flotsam amongst the wreck.
The ship was gorgeous but the parts were not, little bird.
I begin to remember the debris and trying to pick up pieces.

Like eating glass, every bit harder to swallow - the nights haunt me but perhaps I should find comfort;
At least one of us didn't sleep alone.
And how I wish it could've been me.