letting go | bree burton
how long did i hold on?
here, facing the ice in the dark of the sky,
i’m hoping you’ll see the distance in me,
and here, i’m treading ground i don’t know,
they’re overgrown with flowers of poison,
and things you say that you’ve shown~
how long do i hold on?
here, wearing these scars,
though they run up my arms,
i’m hoping you’ll see that i came quite far,
and here, i know the pain’s not your life,
you say you’re made of ice,
and i can’t melt it down, it was carved on your crown~
how long have i held on?
you’re neutrally then colored down,
until you shrink and melt,
fearing i’ll see you how you see yourself,
but here, i know that evil’s not born,
and i’m growing to know~
that you’re just a ghost who can help me get by,
and here, i know that leaving is poor,
i don’t know what to live for,
but at least if you’re safe; one less reason to cry.
how did i hold on?
i can’t count the times,
but i know that i’ve stayed strong, and i’ve really tried~
i don’t know how long until i let go,
but i can’t lose my grip yet,
because i know how long i’d hold on,
even if you’re a ghost that sleeps in my head.