Holding

I hold on to things, I hold on to things so hard

I let it all pile up inside of me, and keep them there, safe in misery

Little everyday things remind me of what's in there

Like every time you leave and disappear for hours

I hear the front door open and shut, and I cringe

I remember you walking in drunk, already defensive

Like when I walk down the hallway and find the lone picture frame in the middle

I see the nails on either side of it, where the other two used to be

They are gone because you stumbled by in a drunken stupor and knocked them off

I remember that we shopped for frames together

and you put them up our first week, in our first home together

You never fixed them

Every photo where your eyes seem slightly unfocused, I remember

I want to stop holding the negative

for when the bad has turned I want to give you a chance

Give me something better to hold on to