999 Z72

a glimpse of me
enough to fix time
a glimpse of you
fixed up in your tomb

this heat chills me
guess I got your cold
guess I got your blood
but you ain’t got mine

I see pieces of you
scattered across fields
I try to pick them up
oh my hands are sore
so callused
from picking up your shards
(I keep my shards
in a chest
at the foot of my bed
so nobody cuts their feet)

I never wanted to pick anyone
else up as much as I do now

now just alive in my chest
I’d expel you if I could
I’ve never been cut so deep
but the sap remains
guess I got your blood

you’d understand if you had mine