there is a sensitive innocence
in the way you touch you hair
the thoughts held underneath
and the words that simper there,
i wonder if you’re still breathing
or whether you’re already dead
i trust his cruelty has you seething
why don’t you cut off his head?
there are no more angels here
they’ve all decided to fly away
across the moon & into a grave
we have nothing more to say
no–not even a goodbye song
will be muttered in his wake
for he’s already left you empty
there’s nothing more to take