I woke up to a mouthful of ash again because you let that pack of cigarettes burn all night long and I forgot to blow out the candles and you're holding my wrist so tight that we're both on the verge of cracking but I know I know you're just holding on so maybe I'll swim even though all I want to do is sink, even though you're the one with the anchors around your neck I'm sorry your spine is bent but you're still keeping me upright I'm sorry you're lost and I threw away the map I'm sorry I can't glue the world back together for both of us I'm sorry I wake up most mornings unable to breathe