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I’ll carve marks into my skin

And hope that you can see

Trust the cold wind with my name

To show where I have been,

Throw my arms out open wide

Watch red skies turn to black

Cry lost flowers wilt and die

To show you what’s inside,

I’ll leave words upon the shelf

Beneath the dust they’ll die

Hear the voices on the breeze

Whisper someone else,

All the things I left undone

Freeze the hands as they spin

Then slip between the covers

And vanish with the sun.

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020