Talk Her Down

Just try and talk her down
People say from below
But it doesn't help
It can't help
It never helps
People talking me down is the reason im here
The reason that the last thing my fingertips will brush before the concrete is the skyline
The reason the last thing ill taste before the blood is colder air than I'm use to
The city has a new highest point
And its it's the top of my still intact skull
but not for long
Because everything that rises must fall
Great empires rose and fell
Great queens and kings
But unlike those
You will not find my name in history books
There will be too many pieces to pick back up
That no one will be able to fit back together
To make sense of

And instead of my name, my gravestone will be a puzzle
Because people always try and peice you back together
when they know it's too late
and when they finally fit the last corner in place
They will stare at a portait of a clock

The clock will read morning
And they will be mourning
Not me
But the idea of me
their eulogies will say things like
"She was so happy"
"didn't see it coming"
"In the arms of god"
"Fought the good fight"
And they will look down at their hands and see blood
They will look down at their arms and see blood
They will look into my coffin and say
"If only she told us"