you said, come with me | and so i did | i thought i could take all your sorrow | i thought i could hold it all | i never imagined your oceans so bitter | the killing | the falling | the slaughter | of feather and bone || i sat still in the five 'clock light | the sun came in through the crack | the floor to your room | was all splinters | and, still, | some are remaining | through skin | and through flesh | cutting in patterns | like diamonds | like needles | down to the bone | i had to know | i had to see | i can take it all | but i will learn to be free | i loved you | more than you'll ever know | even through broken windows | through the blood as it | ran down your fist | even though it was my life | and my truth | and my hope | and my window gone || and now | if you think i'm | coming back home | first i should tell you a secret: | i sleep with a sword near my hand | each night | sharpened with dreams | of your body | your murder | your blood | as it runs down | my street.