You And I.

Outside you are only skin and bones,
but I see your hands tremble and your
skin shatter, lonely lips make me wonder
how can someone make so much noise and
meet only silence.

It's starting to show, the pull
of your skin around your mouth,
teary eyes that blink back the mask,
it hurts to talk and be touched,
we'd rather be alone.

Slumped shoulders push through
empty frames, I catch the whisper
on the tip of your tongue but I know
change is not around the corner,
and still we dream of not being young.

Being right because of how many
days have passed since you first
saw the light, it brings up a sense
of authority, you wash your hands
over and over, it stings to grow up.

Darkness is welcomed, but for every
sunrise the pit of your stomach
boils a different kind of fear, how
much reassurance I've sewn onto my skin,
your mind draws up the death of dreams.

Lucky stars, you are alive. I feel a
compromise has been made, how many steps
can you take before you go mad? I find you
fine, hands around your ears, words of love
and don't forget to do what you're told.

Inevitable, we hate how it shows on our
skin, how it sounds in our voice, how we're
young but feel so old. Bring forth the
silence, I've met the enemy in many voices
and stayed unhurt, we're still worlds apart.

Hold onto that string of something you saw,
of what someone said, of what your tired
brain recites, I can't help you or drag
you out of the dark, the light would kill
us, both you and I.