Poor, lone, Emma.
Old, faded and wrinkled...
We are broken in different ways
But the hurt feels similar, not quite the same...
When starting life without you, of all I used to...
When holding on so firmly, not wanting to let go...
She was a pristine rose plucked;
A vision in crimson from a sea of scarlet...
I’ve spent years here playing with my ashes,
Watching seasons pass and the grass regrow...
You made a choice
Our bond broken...
And there she goes,
Her and the painted night horse...
.
there need not be iron bars...
When life kicks you, people say it will get...
When a dog bites you, people say it will heal...
I was once in love with a woman who brought me...
Every time I saw her, I felt like a child opening...
I know they're not our footprints
Embedded in the sand...
I’ve been crying out for so long
Like being on repeat, a familiar song...