One million angels
come to carry me away.
One million angels
and still I wouldn't leave.
One million angels
who ask me not to stay.
One million angels
whose gifts I won't receive.

a loneliness surrounds her heart
her bridges twist and fall apart
green eyes cry wide beneath a sky
that's both too blue and far too high
her friends walk by without a word
to catch a glimpse of this rare bird
who only wished to leave her nest
sing all the love out from her chest
now her heart's crammed into a jar
the world looks better form afar

There is a
tenuous beauty
in apocalypse, I imagine.

A whole world laid out beneath you
like a mother's arms,
you stood in infancy facing the stars,
and I remember thinking as I watched you
that I shouldn't speak,
that those million little suns
will teach you everything you need.

A girl was selling flowers,
white orchids she had clipped.
I found them rather lovely
and placed one on your crypt.

Like a bygone love, it wilted.
Its petals dried and fell.
You're long gone, I know,
but I hope you're doing well.

Today I watched an eagle fly into the sun,
swallowed by a sea of yellow and red.
It's feathers caught light and burned and
fell from the sky above my head.

Down they drifted to my feet,
twisting like a lovely flaming helix.
And when, through the smoke, I squinted my eyes,
I thought I saw a phoenix.

When our page was white and empty
words came easy, I was smitten.
But now you're someone else's poem
and a line I wish I'd written.