Time is a witness
to the mark of the moth
in my hair, and I swear
the nights are getting longer
I keep putting it off
hoping I would discover
a star no one knew was there
and I can only wonder why
the bluebirds die
on the power lines singing
if god had a heart
he'd take me instead
and put a thirty ought six
straight through my chest
just for believing
that somewhere there's a nest
with my name on it.
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 8:45 PM UTC
Time is a witness
to the mark of the moth
in my hair, and I swear
the nights are getting longer
I keep putting it off
hoping I would discover
a star no one knew was there
and I can only wonder why
the bluebirds die
on the power lines singing
if god had a heart
he'd take me instead
and put a thirty ought six
straight through my chest
just for believing
that somewhere there's a nest
with my name on it.
