This was easier.
Without the click tick ticking.
The burden of calcium and bone.
Like chalk ground on the sidewalk.
This is where we were happy.
This is where we were born.
This is where we quit.
This is where we quit again.
Unaware of the lighter in my hand.
The cold cigarette in my lips.
The wet clinking ice in the glass.
The light that burnt out hours ago.
You should dance.
Its the third best thing you can do with those hips.
I should hurt.
Its the only thing to do with this life.
Two pain killers and a sleeping pill.
Ever waning prescriptions.
Ever waxing ache.
Some day it's gonna catch.
That'll be the day.
That'll be the day it melts away.
Like first green day of spring.
Peeking through the ice and still white caps.
That's the day I stop running
the day it burns.