only for a moment, and the moment’s gone .
I catch the pattern
Of your silence
Before you speak
I do not need
To hear a word.
In your silence
Every tone I seek
And now my bitter hands cradle broken glass of what was everything
All the pictures have all been washed in black, tattooed everything /
All the love gone bad turned my world to black
Tattooed all I see, all that I am, all I’ll be /