The sand never left your shoes, did it?
It worked itself into the holes it wore in your soles and your soul
And trails you like the humidity that clung to your skin
All those years ago.
For a long time, they were the only "nice" shoes you had,
If only for their silence
Regarding the noise they carried you through.
They're long gone now, of course--
--sentiment does always lose out to survival in the end--
--but you still roll every step,
Even when it makes you stumble or ache.
You still keep finding that sand in the corners of your life.
It's a cruel sort of irony, when the songs and steps that kept you alive
Now drag you back into this deathlike dream.
The guilt of today, the grief of yesterday--
--the worst of both worlds,
From the best of the worst of times.
How much longer will you haunt this field?
...how much longer will it haunt you?
The heart remembers what the hands forget
But the brain just wants to be free--
--to be silent, at long last, and still.
At ease.
They say it'll give you tendonitis,
But you still roll every step--
--you can't help it.