Amber, stay.

If it makes you less sad
I will write everyday,
sew up your wounds,
cleanse your eyes pained grey.

And if it makes you less sad
I will help you to feel,
caressing your scars,
gold red and real.



The fragile flutter of beauty's wing
sliced on rose tinted glass
stale firmiliar sting

A ring of gold
Pure as new york snow
Your mothers half smile
Pink plastic sins
Under oath at the trial

If it makes you less sad
I’ll burn every page
You can keep to yourself
I'll keep out of your way

And if it makes you less sad
I’ll wear your crown made from thorns
Tattoo your name in tree bark
Watch the rock and roll p***

You’re the murder she wrote
And the sting in my throat
Cherry lipstick smeard neck
Drowned in sea salt you float


Your’re the ash I’m the tray
You’re the frail, lost and stray
Sprinkled ivory skin
Look away, your hips sway