Count how many breaths I’m taking.
Stair at the ceiling,
And wait to stop feeling.
I can’t dream,
Can’t even sleep.
I want to sew up this seem,
But thoughts cut to deep.
Thoughts of you, thoughts of me,
Thought I won’t ever let you see.
I’m avoiding the times, where I have to speak,
About these emotions that I keep.
Today I feel broken,
Please god, just turn away,
Cause these bleeding hands are still holding,
Onto that day…
But I know, or want,
It all to be a lie
Still with this death grip,
I mourn as I sit.
Mourn for what I haven’t lost yet.
I swear I haven’t given up yet.
Just tell me they’re wrong,
Tell me it isn’t gone.
Tell me lies,
sweet little lies…
 
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