Painting WingsThough birds and moths are born with a way to fly,
that doesn't mean I can't paint on your wings,
so you can soar instead of die.
For there are better ways to escape the bed you
made in a dark hole you used to call your heart.
Please, let me help you, darling;
there's no need to leave or depart.
As sunsets burn to give light to the morning,
and frost kills the trees to sleep before
they must wake, I can show you how to start again;
this beauty will not be fake.