So, this is the impossible thing

that I have asked of you.

Never said anything we ever did

was going to be very easy.

You’ve been clinging to your life,

like you think that you need it,

but you look the other way

every time you have to live,

as if every day

were the cold, corpse hands

of a painful memory.

 

You can’t seem

to open your eyes to see

past the enemies

you have made up

to haunt you,

every time you dream.

I can’t fight them for you;

maybe it’s time

to admit defeat.

 

Sometimes we have to lose

our minds,

our lives.

Holding the world in a bitter stalemate

might equate

to some kind of existence,

but it’s not one I would want to live.

I don’t think it’s kind, or healthy;

that war of attrition

nobody’s going to win.

It’s a plane crash

in slow motion.

 

So, you’re gonna have to lose,

if you want to win.

You’ll have to admit defeat

and then we’ll

start over again,

because I can’t fight for you

and against you there’s no end;

just a forever war.

So now you’ll have to do

what you’ve never done before.

 

One

impossible thing.

Losing to win.

Letting go

to gain control.

I want you to die

and come back to life.

Travel through

that never ending hollow.

Be born again

and made new;

this is all I ask of you.

One

impossible thing;

I think it’s the least that you could do.

 

HG – 2017