hold your fire and maybe then i'll hold your hand
(if we stay around long enough to breathe, that is)

-

fingers wrap around throats
and this generation
bleeds hippie red as ankles
tangle in dirty sheets
and bedrooms become battlefields

no glove, no love

remember that, dear,
because children come and
children go, but in the
dark, you never know.

so hold your fire and maybe then
i'll hold your hand
but as for now, we're going ninety
down an open road
(and i'm too alive to be feeling sentimental)

and the past, it whooshes
through our ears and the
future, it's at our fingertips
(but our hands are soso far away
these days)

so we live in the present and
forget about the gifts
our mother gave us because
on a night like this,
i'm not sure how long we'll last

and i'm not sure i'll be around long
enough to actually care
if we make it through this dead, or

b r e a t h i n g.

-

-

8.12