We have the same feelings that we have had
I knew what was different when my skin didn't crack
My callouses didn't burn, my stomach didn't sink

I just internalized the loss, embraced the weakness
Toe to toe with "one day at a time"
It has become as routine as watching you sink into cold, dead skin

The void where that fire went
Or where the last one rested its skull
Fucked, or the next one
The rope hanging from my father's hotel window
Around my neck on my head