For Each Stair I Climb, The Company Thins

"What has you torn?" my mate asked me, seeing my typical aloof behavior manifesting. Right on schedule, too.

"Nothing," and I give that reassuring smile that says me, and the world, isn't slowly dying.

"Stop thinking about them, it's torture. Have fun."

But fun is a hot butter knife and I'm hard bread. And when the knife falls I can't help thinking how much I miss them -

That diamond cut can't compensate
not when we're drilling bedrock and killing bits
not when we're wearing masks that makes men mice
it can't be like this, not like this.

You're the place the virgins gather
and holy men recite their lists
The place where love gets lost in laughter
It can't be like this, not like this.

Perilous, if they only knew
the bloated storm clouds birthing rains
and whispered in the morning dew
"It can't be like this, not again."

"Oi, space cadet, it's time to go."

I'll go. But each moment, without you, is a hot butter knife and I'm hard bread. I miss you.