Apoptosis

I turned down the volume on the things I used to say, Adjusted my posture for the silence in the way. I traded my weekends for an easier routine, And tucked all the jagged edges where they couldn't be seen. A minor adjustment, just a slight course correction. A preventative measure for the health of our connection. I file down the corners, I swallow the static, Keeping it quiet, keeping it automatic. I strip myself down to keep us alive, But the more I disappear, the less we survive. I’m carving out spaces to pull you in close, But creating a void where the emptiness grows. I’m trying to save us by erasing me, But how can you hold what is ceasing to be? Now the changes aren't small, they’re the weight of the floor, I’m bracing for your footsteps before you reach the door. I catch myself apologizing just to fill the space, Then trying to remember what I put in its place. I look in the mirror and I don't know who I am, Just rewriting my reactions to a script that's out of hand. The equation is failing, the numbers won't bend— So I give up another piece and start over again. I strip myself down to keep us alive, But the more I disappear, the less we survive. I’m carving out spaces to pull you in close, But creating a void where the emptiness grows. I’m trying to save us by erasing me, But how can you hold what is ceasing to be? The sequence is breaking, the threshold is clear, I am watching myself disappear. I know what this costs, I know what it takes, I know every rule that this quiet breaks. I see the trap, and I walk right through— Not to save us—but to finish what I started for you. If there's anything left you want... anything I haven't already given... Take all of me.