The world revolves,
and I stand still.
The dust clouds settle,
and I've yet to fall.
Tears are spilled,
from my dry eyes,
and so spins the world.
Let the wind blow wild and free,
whip my hair and sting my cheeks,
break apart my facade of glass,
and let me fall.
What I've lost.
What little I've gained.
To sit at the hearth alone,
and feel the ghost of the touch of a hand in my hair.
Where have you gone?
Why do I remain?
Must I stand alone?
Spin, spin the world,
and let me hit the ground at last.
I am alone in my fall.
Shall we spin together some day?
The world and I,
moving as one for once,
so the time cannot pass me by.
Remaining frozen hurts,
I cannot draw my breath.
The scream remains lodged in my throat,
in a world of frozen snow and rain,
spin, spin the world.
The fire has long since faded from my blood.
The smoke of my bridges burned no longer stings my eyes.
The voice of regret and confusion is silent.
I am a shell, full of nothing and everything,
and I am falling at last.
The impact shatters my bones.
The pain-filled scream breaks through gritted teeth.
Water spring to ill-used tear ducts,
and as the blood flows across my wasteland,
I chuckle a sigh, a sob?, of relief.
Spin, spin my world.
I shall move with you again,
on broken legs and with patched-up lungs,
and smile with bittersweet pain.
Spinning at last,
revolving with my time,
spin, spin my world.