How do you teach a brain that’s built for survival
And feels it’s done extremely well
That all the things it’s been running from
Are gone now, a figment of my imagination

It’s ok to stop, I know you’re exhausted
Can put down the stone, the stick, the rock
Can put down the blade, the knife, the axe
Can put down the tweezers, the flame, the point

But still it all sleeps
Just under my pillow
Just in case it’s needed
Tonight, or maybe tomorrow.