I feel nothing but broken
but I cannot hide,
because the battle’s all inside.


How can you stand to stand by me
when my fallout-mind’s a chancy ground,
when all my sands shift like the sea;
why don’t you leave me fallen down?

How can you understand the shame until you feel the shrapnel smash?
My blitzkrieged brain burnt out and maimed,
the surface crazed like broken glass.

No one wants a war-torn girl,
whatever color her wild sky
or music locked in her shell-shocked soul…
God, what’s the chance she’ll try to fly?
(or try to die…? )

I guess I’ll never have your strength —
my own is bunkered down and deep —
but every night when dreams fall dark,
please hold my fire so I can sleep.

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