Fermata

So, it seems
that I've finally let go of almost everything
that I used to keep close;
Like the bag of stones
that I kept neat in-case I ever needed the pity,
or if things got shitty,
or I couldn't stand another night comatose.

I've been underneath these past few years.
I need some time to stretch my legs and stand up straight,
adjust my eyes to the sun.
I just want to be brighter.

It's hell or cold, new or old, not in-between, just separate.
I'm days away, but afraid to stay irresolute and self-detriment.

Let the tree burn hot while you tear it down,
no more leaves were growing here anyhow,
but you keep a couple seeds deep inside your chest,
'cause you can never let go of what you thought what best and it
couldn't make anymore sense to me.

I've been all alone in these woods I've grown to know.
I've been so nostalgic, melancholic, a branch that ceases to grow.
I've been holding back the words to find a way to call you out.
The urge is growing, unfolding.
Look like it's back to work and back to
no sleep for me.

Let the tree burn hot while you tear it down,
no more leaves were growing here anyhow,
but you keep a couple seeds deep inside your chest,
'cause you can never let go of what you thought what best and it
couldn't make anymore sense to me.