thumxleon:

You saved my life he says. I owe you everything.
You don’t, I say, you don’t owe me squat, let’s just get going, let’s just get gone, but he’s
          relentless,
keeps saying  I owe you, says Your shoes are filling with your own damn blood,
you must want something, just tell me, and it’s yours.
         But I can’t look at him, can hardly speak,
I took the bullet for all the wrong reasons, I’d just as soon kill you myself, I say.
You keep saying  I owe you, I owe… but you say the same thing every time.
          Let’s not talk about it, let’s just not talk.
Not because I don’t believe it, not because I want it any different, but I’m always saving
and you’re always owing and I’m tired of asking to settle the debt.
          Don’t bother.
You never mean it anyway, not really, and it only makes me that much more ashamed.
There’s only one thing I want, don’t make me say it, just get me bandages, I’m bleeding,
          I’m not just making conversation.

Wishbone by Richard Siken