Chapter 7
I Just Need You Now
Aria awoke violently in the middle of the night. It surprised her, mostly because it was the first time in days that she wasn't waking up in the middle of the night from her own nightmares. She looked towards the clock. 12:34 AM.
She look over in the spot next to her, and the sight broke her heart. Shaking and covered in a sheen of sweat, Ezra had the blankets clenched tightly in his fists. She couldn't even begin to fathom what had happened to him in his senior year of college, and the largest part of her really didn't want to know.
"Stop! No!"
Aria leaned over and shook his shoulder gently, trying to be careful that she didn't scare him or hurt him. It took several minutes, but eventually his eyes opened, and he looked up at her, rather quizzically.
She brushed her knuckles against his cheek, frowning. "You okay?" Ezra struggled for a few moments to recall what he'd been dreaming about. As it came flooding back to him, his face turned red. "Fine. I didn't hurt you, did I? I didn't kick you or-"
"No," Aria insisted. "You were shaking, and you're soaked."
At her comment, Ezra looked down at himself. His pants were sticking to his legs, as was his shirt. He groaned and himself up into a seated position, and moved off the bed. "Maybe I should just go."
Aria grabbed his broken wrist, turning his attention back to her. "Don't. Please. Just sleep in your boxers. I told you, I sleep better when you're here."
"How can you say that? It's my fault you're awake right now."
"Please, Ezra," Aria begged. "Don't leave."
He let out a heavy sigh and then removed his shirt from over his head. He used it to wipe away the sweat on his forehead and his neck, and then ditched his sweatpants as well before he moved back onto the bed. Aria followed after him and laid down next to him, resting her hand gently on his chest. Ezra held her hand gently. She could feel his heart racing, and her knowledge of his personality was well enough equipped to tell her that regardless of what he was telling her, he wasn't fine. He wasn't even remotely calm.
"Talk to me, please," she asked him. "I know you're not okay."
Ezra shook his head at her. "It's memories, that's all. It doesn't mean anything."
"It's not all," Aria insisted. "You're upset." It amazed her, how easily her frame of mind around him had shifted. Like, because she understood this new piece of the puzzle so clearly, having been through it herself, nothing had really been missing. It was more like discovering a hidden piece of him that she could relate to, rather than finding a missing piece.
Even so, it didn't do anything to quell her fears. She knew how she had been feeling for the last few days, and seeing him suffer like this wasn't helping her at all. She also knew that for as long as she might've been suffering, he undoubtedly had been suffering for much, much longer. He had kept this secret from her for almost a year.
Aria exhaled a heavy breath, knowing that, by his silence, he wasn't going to give anything away. She turned on the bed and rested on her back, and did something she'd never done before.
"Come here. Let me hug you."
Ezra raised an eyebrow at her, obviously not entirely sold on the idea. Even so, Aria kept her arms open, and a few moments later, he moved towards her, and he rested his head just under her breasts. Aria ran her fingers through his hair and listened as his breathing seemed to slow and then even out as he drifted off to sleep. It almost seemed too easy, but if that's what helped, then that's what she would do.
She looked over at the clock. It was nearly 1 AM. With any luck, she'd be able to get a few hours of sleep before going back to hell. Oops, sorry. School.
-
They say before you start a war
You better know what you're fighting for
-
Aria was screaming when she awoke the next morning, and tears were running down her face from a dream that she'd forgotten as soon as her eyes opened. Ezra had been asleep next to her, both of them asleep long past when her alarm should've gone off.
Byron came to stand in the doorway of the bedroom and looked at the both of them with a concerned expression as Ezra enveloped Aria in his arms.
"What was it?" He asked softly, brushing a comforting hand through her hair. Aria just shook her head, clinging tightly to him as she curled up in his lap.
Byron turned and walked out of the room, leaving Aria and Ezra to talk alone. When she finally calmed, she looked up at the clock. "It's almost nine thirty. Why are you still here?"
Ezra shrugged, brushing her tears off her face. "Alarm never went off. What had you so upset?"
"I don't remember," Aria said softly. "All I can remember is Grady's face, and then I woke up."
Ezra brushed his lips against her temple with a sigh. He hated knowing that she had been screaming in her sleep. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" She asked, wiping at her eyes.
"Everything," Ezra said softly to her. "Not being there that night. Having to tell you about all of my crap…" Aria shook her head at him, placing her hands on either side of his face. "If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to make you see that none of this is your fault."
His eyes dropped to the floor, and Aria tilted her head to the side. It hurt her to see him this beside himself, and to truly understand he was feeling the way he did. She moved one of her hands behind his head and pulled him down to her, brushing her lips against his cheek before she hugged him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, placing several kisses to his neck a she nuzzled her face there.
Ezra's arms looped slowly around her and he hugged her back for several minutes, before finally resigning to the fact that they would have to leave Aria's bedroom at some point to face the day. When she finally pulled her arms down from around his neck, he grabbed his bag from where he'd left it the night before and then headed across the hall towards the bathroom.
Aria sank down against her bed as she watched the bathroom door close. She'd never seen Ezra this closed off. She'd never seen him so completely shut down and unwilling to connect, in any manner. Yet as she sat there, her heart literally ached for how much she missed their connection. She missed their ability to sit and talk for hours about absolutely nothing. She still felt comfort when she was in his graces, but it wasn't the same. It was like he was as scared as she was, and that did very little to comfort her fears of Grady.
What scared her more though, wasn't what she had been through, or even what could happen. She was absolutely terrified of seeing something happen to Ezra that he couldn't stop or control.
Aria let out a shaky breath and then moved off her bed. She walked across her room and pulled her closet open. After looking at it for a few moments, she finally pulled out a midnight blue dress. She walked into her bathroom and slipped out of her pajamas before pulling the dress over her head. She ran a brush through her hair afterwards and then applied a bit of makeup before heading back out to her bedroom.
She walked over to her dresser and pulled out a pair of tights, and slipped them on before pulling a pair of black wedges from her closet and slipping her feet into them. She retrieved her school bag from the floor and then slipped over her shoulder and walked out of the room.
Aria made her way downstairs and walked into the kitchen. Byron and Ezra seemed to be mid-conversation, but it stopped as soon as she walked into the room. Aria glanced at Ezra's choice in clothing. He was dressed in a black dress-shirt with a green t-shirt poking out around the collar, and matching black dress pants.
"I'm gonna go to school," she murmured. "Can I have the car keys?"
"I have to run up to Philadelphia in about an hour," Byron replied. "I think Ezra's on his way in to Hollis though. Could you drop Aria by the high school?"
Words didn't need to be said to note how heavy the tension was in the room, but Ezra gave in to the offered up idea anyway, and led Aria out to his car. She settled in the passenger seat and he in the driver's, but nothing was said between them as they pulled away from the Montgomery home.
Halfway to Rosewood Day, Ezra pulled over on an empty street and shut the car off. Aria had been staring out the window, wishing for the ride to come and go as smoothly as possible. She was surprised when she saw that he pulled over instead.
"What?" She asked.
"You're upset," Ezra replied simply. "And you're upset with me."
Aria shook her head, taking a deep breath. "I'm not upset with you. I'm scared for you. There's a lot about everything you've been through that I still don't understand, because you won't let me in. I don't know how to help you." "You don't need my crap on top of your own," he murmured dismissively.
Aria groaned. "And we're right back where we were when you tried to end our relationship without asking me how I felt about it! These aren't one-sided decisions, Ezra! You don't get to make them without me!"
"You don't want my crap," Ezra argued back as he glared at her. "You don't want to know the things that went on last year, Aria! They would sicken you! Good god, they make me sick!"
Tears ran down Aria's face before she was even aware that she was crying, and she was torn between being angry with him and hurt by his lack of believing that she could be empathetic to his situation.
"You know, I thought I was unfair for the way I treated you yesterday, but you're being just as unfair to me. I am capable of understanding what you've been through Ezra, without judging you or looking at you like you're damaged."
Ezra shook his head, gripping the steering wheel in his hands. "It has nothing to do with whether or not I think you're capable of understanding me or what I've been through. It has to do with the fact that I don't want my crap affecting what you're already being forced do deal with. This was put on me to deal with. Not you."
"So I'm not allowed to be here for you?" Aria asked. Her tone dripped with how much he was hurting her.
Ezra looked up at her, the pain clear and evident on his face. "What do you want me to tell you, Aria? That the first time it happened, Hardy came back to the dorm, found a condom on the floor, and thought I was screwing some girl in his bed? How other than those occasions, I've never had an STD? How it makes me sick that because of that guy I've had STDs? Or would you rather hear about how I sat in the ER for six hours with doctors poking and prodding me and cops asking me the same question fifty different ways? I hated my life at that time."
Ezra knew what he said to her had been mean. He knew it was wrong if him to go off on her like that. But it was that very reason that he didn't want to have to tell her about his past in the first place. He didn't want her feeling like she was being forced to carry his burdens because he couldn't deal with what had happened to him.
Aria shook her head as she wiped the angry tears from her face. "That was unfair, Ezra. And uncalled for."
He stared out the window, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. It seemed lately that that was an impossible task, and it made him crazy to no end. Why couldn't he accept what was in front of him?
"I don't want to hurt you," he said, enunciating each word. It took everything in him to get that sentence out, past the knot in his throat. "I don't want what I've been through to affect you. It's not fair, Aria."
He looked over at her as she reached a hand across the seat and ran it down the back of his head to the base of his skull.
"I think we've both learned pretty recently that life isn't fair, Ezra." She pursed her lips for a moment. "But why should that stop me from being able to be here for you? Or you for me? I still love you, broken up or all together. You're still Ezra to me."
"And you're still Aria to me," he murmured back. "But don't you ever wonder if maybe how we view each other isn't who we're supposed to be?"
Aria frowned. "You can't think about it like that. It'll eat you up inside." "It's already started," he whispered. He shook his head and reached up to start the car again. Aria reached her hand out and placed it over his, stopping him from actually turning the key in the ignition.
Ezra looked at her with a frustrated expression. "Please, do not try and lay a speech on me about how things are going to get better, because I may just vomit on you. Comments like that are a dime a dozen in counseling."
Aria raised her eyebrows at him. "You were in counseling? I didn't know that."
Ezra looked down at the radio console as he shrugged his shoulders. "You had your secrets about 'A'. All those weekends I spent up in New York up until a couple of months ago were because the only way I was ever going to get suicide watch off my record was to agree to counseling. I didn't want to go anymore, and my therapist and I couldn't come to an agreement. I didn't want to talk about what had happened, and she said she didn't know how else to get through to me. She agreed to let me take a six month break, and see where things ended up in July, given the promise that if things got bad again, I'd get help."
"And are they?" Aria asked. "Getting bad again?"
"Aria-"
She tilted her head at him, clenching her jaw. "Don't close up on me again. Is it getting bad again?"
"You have to understand-"
Aria huffed, shaking her head. "I don't have to understand anything! Tell me you're not feeling like you want to hurt yourself again, and if you are, that you're going to talk to someone!"
"Don't push this," he begged her. "Don't ask me to go down that road, Aria."
Aria breathed in a shaky breath, biting her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. "I'm not pushing you down any road," she whimpered. "You're already on it."
-
Don't you know you should never
Treat a girl like that
-
Aria and Ezra parted when he finally dropped her off, but she didn't feel any better about their current situation. She coasted through the two classes she had before lunch, and then struggled to pay attention. By the end of the day, she was sitting in her mother's classroom, but memories of when Ezra had worked there plagued her in ways she couldn't stand.
She stood up and began to pace. Mike gone with his friends, and all of her friends had already headed out for the day. She was left waiting for her mother to go home.
Ella walked into the classroom, carrying a stack of books in her arms. "Sorry, sweetie. Meeting ran late…" Her voice trailed off as she saw Aria pacing. "Aria, what's wrong?"
"I'm terrified Ezra's going to hurt himself," she said bluntly.
Ella settled her stack of books onto the desk at the front of the room and turned to face her daughter. "Where is this coming from?"
"Did you know Ezra tried to kill himself last year?" Aria asked.
Ella shook her head as she started placing her books into her bag. "Vaguely. Your father mentioned it last night after they talked. Why?"
Aria shook her head, leaning back against one of the desks. "Because he did it after everything that happened to him last year. He did it because he couldn't deal with what happened."
Ella's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't understand where you're going with this. Is it that you're feeling like hurting yourself? Because, Aria-"
"No," Aria insisted. "I told you, I'm afraid Ezra's going to hurt himself. Today- Before he dropped me off at school, we got in an argument. I-In the car. I wanted him to tell me what was wrong because he keeps shutting me out. He keeps thwarting conversation and he won't face everything that's in front of him."
"Sometimes people aren't ready to, Aria. You know that," Ella said in a consoling tone.
Aria shook her head, feeling tears burn in her eyes. "I know, and it's not that. I couldn't make him deal, and I wouldn't…But what if he tries to hurt himself again, mom? Am I supposed to just be okay with that?"
Ella frowned. "All you can do is be there for him. And if it gets too serious, where you think he's seriously going to do something, call 911."
Aria stared at the floor with her arms crossed. She sniffled. "That doesn't help much."
Ella walked over to her and wrapped an arm around her. "I know. Just give it time, sweetie. You know that Ezra's got your best interest at heart."
Aria sniffled, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. "But I don't think he has his own."
-
It's late and i am tired
Wish i could spark a smile
-
Aria leaned back against the book case that sat behind Ezra's bed with her arms crossed. He had yet to return from work, but she didn't want to go home. More than that, she was terrified of him being alone. What he was going through scared her, because she knew how felt. She knew how much he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
She stared down at the small scab on her forearm. She rolled her eyes a moment later and then pulled the sleeve of her shirt down. She was such a hypocrite. She was becoming all the things she said she'd never be. But then, wasn't that the point of never saying never? That things could always happen when you least expected them?
She exhaled a breath and shook her head, trying to breathe through the tears that were silently rolling down her face. She really didn't understand how this had become their life. Had a light switch really flipped that fast in their lives? And, a part of her wondered, if this hadn't happened to her? Would Ezra have ever told her about what he'd been through. She had a bad feeling that he wouldn't have.
The door creaked open across the room, but she didn't move. She watched as he entered the apartment and walked over to his desk. He must've spotted her bag on the couch though, because he quickly turned around and looked at her.
"Aria…" She lifted a hand and waved at him before wiping the tears off her face. Ezra settled his bag on the chair in front of his desk before walking over to his bed and sitting down across from her.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Nothing. Everything. You know?" He nodded. He reached his broken hand out and wrapped his fingers around her hand. Aria curled her fingers around his and closed her eyes, resting her head on her knees. They sat like that for a while.
Eventually, she lifted her head up and moved over to the edge of the bed, sitting next to him. "I hate everything about my life now," she said honestly. "I hate it. I don't want to be here like this anymore."
He wrapped his hand around the side of her head and pulled her towards him, pressing his lips to her temple. He knew hugging her was probably the last thing she needed for him to do.
She pushed her sleeve up on her arm, scratching the back of it absentmindedly. Ezra looked down nonchalantly at the moment, but he spotted the very distinct, straight scab on her arm. In fact, his eyes zeroed in on it, as soon as it was in sight. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her arm up.
"Aria, did you do this?"
She opened her mouth to say something, but words evaded her. "I…"
"I'm begging you, DON'T do this. Aria…Please… I'm always here if you need to talk to someone or it's too much to handle. I will NEVER tell you no."
"I ju-…I don't know what to do…"
Ezra's entire upper body shook as he exhaled a shaking breath. "I have walked towards death, greeted it with open arms, and it looks great when you're running from all of this, I know, but I swear to you, there is nothing more painful, more terrifying than the look on someone's face when they find you. Don't make me have to go through that with you. Please."
Aria looked down. "I'm sorry."
The knot that had formed in Ezra's throat was almost too tight to breathe past. He yanked off his wrist watch and then grabbed her hand gently and placed her fingers on the large scar. "I had my mother terrified that I was going to die right in front of her. You never know who's going to find you, and it…" He shook his head. "And I know there's a difference between cutting and suicide, but… Please, Aria." She kept one hand gently wrapped around his wrist while her other hand reached up and wiped the tears off his face. She cupped his cheek and leaned into him, kissing him chastely. "I'm sorry. If I had known… I'm sorry." "Don't apologize," he told her softly.
She shook her head, pressing her forehead against his. As she closed her eyes, several tears ran down her face. "I don't know how to deal with all of this. I don't know how you did…" Ezra laughed, but it wasn't out of cheerfulness, or even because he thought it was funny. "I didn't deal. I ran away from everything and everyone. I buried everything after I tried to kill myself, and I left it there. And I put on a good face because I thought it was what I was supposed to do." He leaned back after a moment and leaned back to look at her, cupping her face in his hands. Tears glimmered in his eyes. "Aria, regardless of what I've said or done, don't model your choices after mine. They were wrong. I stuffed everything away where I didn't deal with any of it, and pretended to be someone I wasn't. It didn't solve anything, though. If anything, it's made it harder."
Her chin trembled and she rolled her shoulders as she stared up at him. "But burying it is just so appealing."
Ezra blinked, and a tear ran down his cheek. "Nothing stays buried. I think we both know that."
He closed his eyes, exhaling a shaky breath.
It seemed the room was spinning around him. How had he found himself here? This hadn't been his life. This wasn't how he had been raised. His parents had raised him to be a good person that stayed out of trouble. He was expected to graduate from college and make a name for himself as an author like his mother. So why the hell was he standing here like this?
His hands shook as he gripped the bathroom counter. He couldn't bare to look up at his own reflection, but fading bruises covered his face from the final attack he'd endured at the hands of his anonymous abuser. There were purple rings around his eyes, and he'd definitely lost weight in the last few weeks. He couldn't bare to actually digest anything. He'd barely skated by the past thirty-six hours in his mother's home, telling her that he just wasn't feeling well, because every time he ate something, he only threw it back up.
The unpackaged razor sat on the side of the counter in front of him, and he knew that if he did this, there was no going back. If he did this, this was it. Yet, he wasn't sorry about it. He didn't want this life. He didn't want to be the guy that everyone knew because his face was all over the news. He didn't want to be known for this. A suicide wouldn't rate very high on the news though. Hell, the most he'd probably get was an obituary in the Hollis paper and the local paper in Manhattan.
And that just sickened him more. He was a purebred New Yorker. His parents were both from well-off families, and even divorced, they both expected highly of him. He was a golden child in the eyes of a lot of people, both in New York and in Rosewood. He wondered if they knew the kind of weight that put on him - especially now. And really, what use would they have for him when they knew the truth. They could never find out, and the only way to keep that from happening was to just not exist anymore.
He grabbed the razor blade and squeezed it in his hand, letting the double-edged blade dig into his palm and his fingers as he walked out of the room. He looked both ways down the hall, and didn't see his mother. She must've stepped into her room to take a call.
He walked in the opposite direction to his bedroom, and then pressed the door shut behind him. He looked around his room.
His desk was perfectly arranged so that nothing was out of place. So were his bookshelves. His bed was made perfectly, pulled tightly enough that you could bounce a quarter off the top of it. He walked over to his iPod base and pushed the power button on the far left side. Music slowly started to flow through the speakers.
He sank down to the floor and uncurled his fingers, revealing crimson liquid as it ran over the dull silver blade from his palm and fingers. The cuts were superficial, and they certainly wouldn't compare to what was about to cover his arms.
He rested his head back against his blankets where he was leaning against his bed frame and squeezed his eyes shut. This was the right thing, right?
"Why can't they remember
What I'll never forget
How these dreams can come undone
When you're young…"
He opened his eyes lifted his head, letting his line of vision fall back to the blade in his hand. He picked it up with his other hand and let out a shaking breath as his trembling fingers brought the blade down against his wrist, vertically. Slowly at first, and then more persistently, he pushed the blade down. As it broke through the first few layers of skin, the pain was clear. But as he pushed past the fleshy skin underneath, the pain was welcomed more. He knew the minute he had cut something by the way blood suddenly began running so much faster from him.
He moved the blade to his other hand, and blood was quickly running over him, onto his dark blue jeans, his baby blue t-shirt, and onto his stained wood flooring. He was quicker this time, pushing the blade down deeply into his skin and dragging it across quickly. It was that simple, and, for as sick as it might've been, he felt relief. This hell he'd been living in for weeks, he was finally going to escape from. He finally felt like he wasn't so terrible anymore.
"You give what you give cause they make you And just that fast, his door burst open, and his head whipped up, and a fresh wave of panic rushed through him. He wasn't supposed to be found like this. Not this soon. Or maybe not at all?
Trapped inside a place that won't take you
They want you to be what they make you
It's already over and done when you're young…"
"M-m-" She screamed before he could say anything, and suddenly Anne Fitz was across the room, screaming her younger son's name as she snatched a discarded t-shirt from nearby and wrapped it tightly around Ezra's left wrist. Tears were present in her eyes, and she looked horrified.
"Ezra, sweetie," she cried as she squeezed her hands tightly around his wrapped wrist. Elijah Fitz trotted into the doorway a moment later, and his eyes grew wide at the sight.
"Mom?"
"Grab a shirt and wrap his wrist," Anne commanded fearfully. Ezra dropped his head back behind him and shook his head. Fresh, hot tears ran down the sides of his face. This wasn't supposed to happen. He didn't want them to know this. And yet, two seconds later, his baby brother was at his side, squeezing his wrist and holding his arm over his head to slow blood flow while also talking to a dispatch operator.
"Why didn't you tell me," Anne cried as she held Ezra's arm with one hand. Her other was cupped around his already cooling fingers.
Ezra shook his head at her. "I didn't want you to know this!"
"Honey…"
He shook his head as tears continued to run down his face. This was his own personal business. He didn't want people knowing.
"Ezra," Elijah murmured. He looked over at his younger brother, and the fear in his eyes matched that, that was burning in his mothers eyes. His chin trembled and more tears ran down his face. "What happened?" Ezra shook his head, sniffling as he sucked in a breath. "I c-…I can't."
"Days never seem longer
They say its better this way
I hope one day I'm stronger that I feel
And I hope that it feels different than today…"
He threw his head back against the boards of his bed behind him, wishing with everything inside of him that he wasn't there, and that he could get away, but he knew there was no chance of that happening. He couldn't bury this now. Not from them; his own family. No, he was screwed now.
Aria watched Ezra as she laid next to him. She found it ironic that her parents were willing to let them stay together in his apartment alone, but considering the circumstances, she supposed that she probably shouldn't have. She was dressed in a pair of his old sweatpants and one of his t-shirts, while Ezra had on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a hoodie.
She tapped buttons on her phone, moving through the different apps on it as the wireless radio played on it. Suddenly a very familiar song came on. Ezra whipped his head up and looked at her.
"Turn that off." Asking no questions, Aria pushed the little stop button and closed the application. She watched once more as he traced an indolent finger over his wrist, running it over the scar he'd put there himself. His watch was settled on the nightstand next to the bed.
"Is there a specific reason you don't like that song?" She murmured.
Ezra nodded, continuing to brush his thumb over the scar. "It was playing the night I tried to kill myself." "You remember that night?" Aria asked.
Ezra shrugged. "Most of it. I mean by the time I got to the hospital, things started getting a little hazy, but I remember doing it, and then my mom catching me, and Elijah seeing everything. I remember thinking that killing myself was going to solve everything. If I was dead, then no one would ever know."
Aria took several long breaths, continuing to watch as he traced his finger over his wrist. "Do you regret it?"
Ezra lifted his head to look up at her. "Trying to kill myself? Or getting caught?"
Aria shrugged, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. She rested her head on her knees, still looking at him. "Any of it."
Ezra sighed, pressing his lips together firmly for a moment. "I didn't regret it when I first did it. But when I saw my mom, and my brother…" Ezra's brow furrowed as he recalled the memories. It was treading a thin line answering that question. Sometimes, especially lately, he wished he'd never been caught. He wished he would've just carried out the deed, and have been done with it. He wished no one knew this, especially Aria. Not because he didn't trust her with the information, but because it felt like he was giving too much of himself away. He felt like everyone pulling him apart slowly, and he wondered if there was going to be anything left when everyone was finished dissecting him.
"I wish a lot of things," he said finally. "I wish I'd never hurt my mom and brother that way. I wish they would've never had to find out those things. Because that's what drove it," he said, turning to face her. "I never wanted them to know."
Aria nodded. She looked down at her phone, and at the song title blinking on and off, asking to be played. She pushed the button curiously. It wasn't a song she knew.
"Oh my, look at those eyes
Look at the trouble that they hide inside
See the flicker of the pain on the rise
Oh, my, look at those eyes
And maybe they're like mine
Things I wish I did not see
Push away all the dirt and debris,
But what'll be left of me…"
