Tearing down the sky
there was static on the radio
and the curtains all were drawn
on your coffee table sat a box
full of souls to be reborn
choked with beads your mother wore
dreaming just for fun
you were tearing down the sky
to try to find the sun
with child-like faith so tragic
wearing diamonds made of coal
humming softly as I closed the door
and walked out with your soul
My name is Aly 






