I could only hold you with broken hands.
What do you do when you become the graveyard of burning smiles?
Do you kneel at your headstone,
burying love beneath rotting stones, the love you once screamed was "mine"?
What do you do when you become an unannounced storm,
Tearing the heavens you once knelt to adore?
Do you rip your heart from your ribs to cover the ruins
Or do you stand, throat torn, and watch the sinned win?
What do you do when you are the flame that devours the flowers you grew?
Do you blow out wind till your lungs bleed or scream I love you?
What do you do when your lullabies rot into screams,
When your hands weave his hair with the wreckage of dreams?
What do you do when your fingers are relics the storm forgot
Cracked, bleeding, trembling in every spot?
When he dances through your ruins, barefoot and brave,
His eyes were bloodshot
The last smile you carved onto a grave.
Tell me—what do you do
When even your love is a blade you cannot sheath?
When even your goodbye is too broken to breathe?
So turn from this wreckage, this bleeding shrine,
Where love is a ghost and loving isn't a crime
Flee while your wings are still untouched by rust,
Before you are ash before you are dust.
Leave me to crumble in hollow lands
For I could only hold you
With broken hands.

.    .    .