Ya'aburnee

Lyrics

You’re breathing.
That’s all.
That’s everything.

The clock on the nightstand says 4:02 AM.
The city is silent for once.
Your hand is warm on the small of my back.
I can feel the rise and fall of your lungs.
This quiet machinery of being here.
I trace the scar above your left eyebrow,
the one from falling off the ladder in June.
I think about the sound of your key in the lock,
the weight of your coat on the hook by the door.
These are the constants.
The physics that hold my world together.

This is not a prayer for darkness.
This is not a wish to leave the sun.
It's just… I cannot be the one.
The one who turns off your side of the bed.
The one who hears the silence in my head.
So you bury me.
Ya’aburnee.
Let me be the earth you have to turn.
Let me be the lesson you don't have to learn.

I think about the boxes in the attic.
Your letters from college, tied with blue string.
The photograph from Lisbon, 1998.
You’re laughing, squinting into the light.
Who would decide what to keep?
Who would have to touch your favorite cup,
still sitting by the sink, and know
it will never be used by you again?
This terrible accounting.
This inventory of a life.
I am not strong enough for that math.

This is not a prayer for darkness.
This is not a wish to leave the sun.
It's just… I cannot be the one.
The one who turns off your side of the bed.
The one who hears the silence in my head.
So you bury me.
Ya’aburnee.
Let me be the earth you have to turn.
Let me be the lesson you don't have to learn.

It is the most selfish thing I have ever wanted.
To be spared the aftermath.
To not have to be the brave one,
the one people bring casseroles to.
I want my grief to be a simple, clean thing.
A closing of my own eyes, not yours.
I cannot live in the epilogue you left behind.

You shift in your sleep, a quiet sound.
You pull the blanket closer.
And the fear is so sharp, it's almost a kind of love.
Ya’aburnee.
You bury me.