Some songs are meant to be little things that expand.
they assume the girth of the world with all the longing
of a symphony

Like a gilded dirge.

Sometimes the heaven
in your hell
is the last
bird.

You live where it hurts
So healing means something
to blindspot in your
perfect oblivion.
It’s how you cope
with an open wound
that loves the moment
you met the one.

Some songs are meant to be all about the girl
and how sunshine adapts to her night.

and some songs are
meant to be
gone.