she says she cant feel anything
as she is cutting shapes of butterfly's into the paper thin
draws little rivers i cant swim
but she smiles and says thats fine
cause she likes me long as i don't talk too much
'specially bout her childhood mutt
she dragged that mutt every place
had really sad eyes
he's somewhere round here i'm sure
just shadow of his former selves
just like me

just like me
but she don't seem to mind
we sit in the regulation standard size sunlight window
and i watch her while she watches traffic crawl
the hospital grounds an expanse of grass
that someday we will someday go play upon
someday when her screaming doesn't hurt so much
when the nurses don't linger to catch

her childhood mutt is barking again, i can see it in her face
she breaks out the soap but it wont help
she trims out another butterfly
out of the paper thin
it just lay there echoing silently
like her tears
i try to kiss them away before visiting hours are over
but there are allways more shapes of butterfly's in the paper thin
drawing little rivers i cant swim
little rivers i can't swim

Sometimes I sit awake at night and wonder about this
beautiful thing called life.
I sit amazed at how we've grown.
The grass, the flowers, the trees.
Natures magic.
I see a daisy sprout up. My little sister yanks it up.
"Look Kelly, look at this pretty flower!"
At three years old she appreciates life's magical soul.
Smiling brightly she searches for more flowers.
My nature baby is what I call her but she tells me she's a flower girl.
As the wind blows she goes with the flow.
"Oh my god Kelly look at that buuug!"
I giggle as I watch the tiny insect wriggle!
How did she even spot it?
Though the leaves are falling and crunching she still
grabs them for her bunch.
The excitement lights up her little face.
She's not letting this nature go to waste.
She sees the blue within the grey skies.
"These are for mammy" she beams with pride.

Her eyes were as green as a new patch of grass,
Her hair as blonde it reminded me of the sun,
Her smile was as amazingly curved as a half moon,
Her voice resembled the voice of an angel,
Everything about her was imprinted in my mind,
And i want it to stay there,
For as long as it can last.

if the stars carried all the stories in the world

I think i’d be most interested

in the ones that tell me of you when you were six

when you’re stuffed monkey was your only friend

and the stories of when you were ten

when you realized you liked a girl with brown pigtails

and you picked out the best flower in the field

only to have it thrown at your feet

if the stars carried all the stories in the world

i’d like to listen to them

with you laying by my side

telling me that Andromeda held all your secrets

and Orion held all your desires

and that the best star of all

was laying next to you

on a blanket in the dew covered grass.