4, 3, 2, 1
Anyone who is a Guster fan may be able to find the link between the title and the piece.
Heaviness in my hand,
so heavy my arm
wants to drop.
Never imagined
thinking about weight
at a time like this.
Will myself to hold it up.
Breathing deeply,
I tell myself to relax.
There are other paths.
There are ways to take care of
these feelings,
these problems,
all these tears and sleepless nights.
There must be-
there have to be-
people who care.
Or just one person who cares.
Someone can help me.
But my mind races over
possibilities,
and the future looks blank.
Cold against my temple,
and the heaviness continues.
Soon all will be light.
Heaviness in my hand,
so heavy my arm
wants to drop.
Never imagined
thinking about weight
at a time like this.
Will myself to hold it up.
Breathing deeply,
I tell myself to relax.
There are other paths.
There are ways to take care of
these feelings,
these problems,
all these tears and sleepless nights.
There must be-
there have to be-
people who care.
Or just one person who cares.
Someone can help me.
But my mind races over
possibilities,
and the future looks blank.
Cold against my temple,
and the heaviness continues.
Soon all will be light.