Counterparts - Thread

Your words grow cold and incoherent and I'm searching for a fever that could lift me to the border of dementia. My eyes are tired from surveying everything we used to share and I would sew them shut if I had any strength inside. I remember every promise, I've carved them
into my spine. I raise my hands to the sky and beg that this won't go unnoticed. Though I know some fires are not meant to burn. We are bred to flicker and fade, not to retreat into the earth. Not to grow without remorse. We douse ourselves with the moisture that we've
drawn from the soil. We breed and unleash. We're our own natural disaster. String me along like the thread that binds your ribcage. Tie my limbs to the anchor, and be sure that I'm left alone to sink. I will shine brighter than the sun. I will forever be your torch. Cast
me away and in time I will set fire to the fibres that connect us. My palms grow calloused from the cold. I need your touch to cauterize. Sustained by the flame of another, the embers begin to reignite. There's a hole in the herd that will never be filled. The anguish
will fall through your fingers as mankind manifests itself through misfortune. I am alone, and the world carries on. I am alone. The world carries on and we don't deserve a second thought.