The left, the right, the up, the down.

The spin, the stand, and the turnaround.

Close we stay, but far we are.

We shut our empty eyes, begging for a new start.

Breathe, he says, but do not breathe too hard.

For if you do, we will all fall apart.

Run, she says, but not so long.

For if you do, it will bring a wolf upon your heart.

Words, they say, can be daggers on the body.

But knives, they write, are nothing except a coward’s life.

The left, the world.

The right, the stars.

The up, the people.

And the down, their hearts.

The spin, the weapons.

The stand, the death.

They turn around, accepting what’s left.

Close we stay, but far we are.

Don’t shut your empty eyes, begging for a new start.