Shots were fired
until there was nothing left.
I'll point this smoking gun
till I bleed these clouds dry.
And if I let these words
die behind my tongue,
I'll suffer the same fate
as this sinking sky.
So many seen through my eyes have failed before me,
but at least I tried.
What are we waiting for?
Holding on to remnants of our former selves . . .
just know this won't last forever.
Cross out the past,
mark it where it stands
its dead and gone.
This might be our only chance to make it out.
We are the ghosts
looming over your head,
we are the skeletons
in your closet.
Dying to be set free
just loosen up your grip,
bury those memories
and lay them to rest.
We're always facing forward,
but these steps they take us nowhere.
Our only choices are giving up or giving in.
