Calendars

Hands glued to the glass You can't touch me Soon I'll be leaving This is the closest that we've ever been Its just a night terror Sweat, you're not bleeding Believe me Stop speaking to me in your Suboxone dreams Days counted like commissary Bankrupt on feeling I've also counted your days All the times you nodded out and I thought you wouldn't wake I remember you as a child always running wild Before your life was milked and siphoned out Here we are now adults bound by plexiglass and gates And I can't help but think that this is all my fault Hands glued to the glass You can't touch me This is the closest that we've ever been