We've always been the kind,
To walk it off.

For what's so heavy in our chest,
Is much lighter with our feet,
In motion.

We've walked together, in the sun,
And the rain.

We let the winds carry our stories,
Into forbidden categories,
With refrain.

But now these streets are too cold,
For our feet.

Light words have turned to heavy breathing,
Vocal affirmations to silent pleading.
Incomplete.

And all of our meaning has blown away,
Like color at the end of fall.

The winds that have our stories carried,
Now drag them through dust, coarse and arid,
Slowing us to a crawl.

You must wonder, if I found any joy,
In burning all our bridges down.

I just prayed that this heat,
Would find it's way to your feet,
And would help you get around.

You've always been the kind,
To walk it off.

For what's so heavy in your chest,
Is much lighter with your feet,
In motion.