These are words from the past,
That wrap all around me.
Like a tight braided rope,
Squeezing as I move.
The further I try to reach,
The more it takes from me.
I know I could cut them,
I felt like I already did.
But so firm that the marks won\'t go,
And it became a part of me.
My eyes don\'t deceive me,
These wounds all on me.
Words from the past call,
I reach out every time.
The rope I\'ll tenderly use,
To tie down my solemn cries.
They used to be innocent eyes,
Precious in a morning gleam.
No I won\'t stop dragging this weight,
It\'s mine and mine alone.
This is what I want for me,
For me.