You ate your obsession. You had some kind of oppression. Like the baby bird, pushed from it's nest. I picked you up. Brushed you off. Took you in. But your broken bones, I could not mend. How was to watch you heal? When you wanted to break, apart the shell. The one you once hatched from. I kept you away, from the poison, Growing near the grave of your past. But you'd always drift. Back to what broke you. I cannot stop, the breaking of your bones. I can only feed the mouth of your heart, until you stop walking, on those shallow stone waters, where the rocks are sharp, and the current, can always scoop you up, and pull you under. Take a deep breath, because I cannot breathe, the breath that once made you whole.