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