How am I supposed to sleep
Thinking of promises to keep
Seeing how I'd easily make you sad
I'm holding them on, though I want to drop them bad

To see them smash unto the ground,
Like teardrops on a shirt,
Into tiny, pointy pieces
To pierce the skin on my hands

My fingers are itching to let go
To tear the skin
To break and cut
To see the fall

Then walk away
Hands over head
As to claim innocence
Spiting evidence bleeding red

And the glass
Bits of promise
Stuck in folds and wounds
They'll tear on my flesh
While I'm too numb to care

So how am I supposed to sleep
Thinking of the possible leap
I could be taking in pure lust
To leave it all, I know I must.