Hatred is a dead body handcuffed to my wrist. I drag it behind me, uphill and down. The face which smears over rocks and concrete is the same as the one I see in the mirror. The fingers which cut grooves into the soil bear my fingerprints; leave their traces. The wake I trail behind me slowly ceases to be red. The passenger sheds his skin. I grow still more hollow. Blank features pass away as my face grows ever harder. My back curves from the weight; the spine is bleached by sun. By the time the bones remaining detach and fall away, there will be nothing left; nothing left to save; but an empty shell dragging empty handcuffs behind.
First published as lyrics for Cindervoice’s Before the Turn LP (2010). / Republished as lyrics for Matthew S. Rosin’s Singing Is Contagious EP (2020).