Quiet hands tremble,
The weight of choice in her palm—
Steel whispers her name.

Click, the chamber turns,
A final breath, deep as grief—
The world holds its breath.

She lifts her burden,
Aiming past the stifling clouds—
Hope pierces the void.

Through the sky it screams,
A shattering wound of light—
Freedom in her hands.

Promises promises,
broken like bones;
Jarring, jagged and painful.

Never will I ever know
why I wasn't worth it.

She gave me her keys and I drove her insane
Its no wonder she took the car and changed her name
Now I'm taking busses and hailing cabs with no destination in mind
Wishing I could just go home to you.

The old wooden shop
On the corner of the street
The smell of jasmine made me stop
Bees humming around the nectar, sweet.


I went to the shop again
The smell wouldn't leave me
Saw nothing but bare ground, plain.


They had to tear it down, love
Said the old stranger
I saw the smells all dissolve
Was I its last customer?


It's been a tale of time
Change is always looming
A last flower I left on the corner,
Jasmine for the bees.