The scars I left on my arm
Climb like a ladder to my shoulder,
The same shoulder
You left your own scars on.
The same shoulder
Your arms embraced for years.

The scars on my legs
Are cushioned by new lovers
In the dark
Who can't see them.
In the dark,
I'm not wounded.

Recent lovers have
Left their marks, but
Your knife in my hand
Was by far the sharpest.
Your knife in my hand
Hurt as much as mine in yours.

Your tears are like rain
In my skies,
But I do not shield myself from the downpour
Because I want to feel every tear shed.
To feel the depths of your sorrow
And with one breath
Relinquish it all into oblivion
Because you wear
Old scars and crooked smiles
But you are magnificent,
An ethereal creature
Worth enough to have my heart.
So take my hand-
And my heart too.
Then maybe your demons
Will learn to fear love

Written on my hands
Are all the secrets I wish to tell you
But my hands remain in clenched fists
So tight the ink begins to seep

Oh, memory strike
down my waning pride,
and like the visceral
oceans in the sky,
fall each dawn as dew,
and surge each paling dusk,
pour like torrents
of monsoons \ hurricanes.
Serve only as a reminder
of the wars I've lost, and
the battles I've just begun.

Their melodies
sing soft and sweet
bringing forth their light.

They never rest,
or fade away,
working all the night.

They sing and sing,
without a stop,
and give their wings some flight.

And if their tune,
did ever die,
I would not be all right.

For their lovely song,
I sing with them,
and I keep my light.

I saw stardust in your hands
As you slipped away
Smiling to yourself
Moving beyond earthly things.