I think I know

I am the reason. I'm the reason you felt the need to bring what you feel on the inside, to the outside. I claim to be holding every one together, but in truth I'm just a single, rusty staple. I can only go so far before time sweeps over me like high tide. Just like that salty expanse of tears, I'm a victim of the capricious moon's ambivalence to highs and lows. I love you though. So I will attempt to be better. I think I could be better, better for you. Just give me some time to wash my skin of it's sallow color. Just give me a little time to compromise with my bones so they don't try so hard to make themselves known under my armor, which is diminishing day after day. I think I know what you want, and I think if I fight hard enough against myself I could give it to you. I just need a little time. I just need a little time.