half drowned in there holes
we've dug for ourselves
hor far have these days taken us
we rest on the backs
of treaded paths
and encircle the ghost
of what we used to be
there's death
in these clutched hands
these words our bricks
and so we build our fortresses
and venture out to swallow
the past into our chests
let me become whole this time
and carry warmth
instead of ice within my ribs
or bury me now to prove
i never set foot from this grave