Sun falling through clouds, breaking the day. Singeing the innocent bystanders that shield you from the gray. Eyes roll back to the uncontrolled world. On your heart lay your hand, fingernails engraved with stories of old. How the red seeps from the sad crease, how you fell for her second face. So easily mislead, trust always falling out of your pocket. Tucking it so deep that the seams rip. To reach but not to find, her hands are stained but she wears a smile. Palm carry nothing but old blood and regret. Wash away with your tears and walk the road. She'll be waiting at the tide, her nails telling of the same story that someone once lied.