All thats left are these shadows on my bones
The glass doesn’t cover your photograph like it used to
You’re not some precious protected memory anymore
Barely more than a raindrop on the window pane
You were the ghost on the other end of the phone
The bullet in the chamber inches away from the barrel
And the odds against the both of us
Despite all of this we both held on for so long
You taught me that its called a death grip because when you finally let go
There is a piece of you that departs with her
All thats left are these shadows on my bones
From where you held on too tightly when it was time to go
*~W.C.