Don’t forget the world,
Where you most matter.
Beneath the rough wood—
Windows that only shatter.
The pieces fit so seamlessly,
As if they were never touched.
Infinitely and intimately,
The gold rush has just begun.
There is no map and certainly no treasure,
For the knots have been buried
For years and years,
Under misread measures.
There are no more daydreams or pretty words,
Souls don’t tie and skies aren’t filled with birds.
You have sleepless eyes,
And nowhere to be tonight.
The moon is no longer your friend,
And the cracks in the pavement make it hard to lie.
But, you are alright.
They have taken your tears—
Painted you as a sin,
But you will always have the whispers—
Silence of the forgotten girls within.