you thought that you’d recovered,
you thought you’d been reborn.
you thought you’d never sell your love so cheaply.
like a joke that fell to silence,
a gesture never made -
death was California,
standing in the shade,
feeling you’d been played.
when nothing else remains,
take your pain and make it beautiful.
the hot September mornings,
the coffee counter smells.
the words that shook your world completely.
when nothing else remains,
take your pain and make it beautiful.