You've got dirt underneath your fingernails
and I'm not sure if it's from digging your own grave
or mine

Your eyes are a blank slate
and I can hardly see the person I knew from before
a tragedy

My hands are tied
with the bits of barbed wire that you used to
keep me out

The palpitations in my chest quicken
my eyes in a frenzy, my body thrashing there has to be
a way

Your heart is lost
but you, you are not. You are here and you are
living still

There is a stillness
in the way you speak and the way you look at me like
I'm a stranger