I was but a cloud amongst others in a sorrowful sky
The thirsty ground beneath looked up with a tear-streaked face
As a child I ate a bitter orange in the corner, clothes patterned with my mother’s sigh
Cold raindrops hit dangling threads, showering me with dirt and grace

Then the translucent glass-like skin our parents made us, broke
Littered and stained with your cigarette holes and burns
We stitched wounds with a crumbling golden thread, whilst trying to stoke
A flame with only our words

The leaves are now covered with frost, and bruises litter the now empty space
The once cared for flames dead, the bitterness turning blue the palest heart
For me to once more fall into the sun’s embrace
For it was not death but life and love that tore us apart