I guess that's it...
when the rib cracks
the lungs and heart aren't too far behind
and the view doesn't need to be the hardest or the night the darkest
to spin an entire world around
and tears fill the eyes
it's in breaking and breaking down
we find the wings to create beautiful things
and the greatest understand
that the worst rooms in town are the source
of all the best and most destructive pictures and words crafted by man
by pen and by hand
and it all builds
day on day
to one of those sparkling
magnetic evenings when
in waves the starlight fills
through eyes
arms
fingers
to paper
to new eyes
lungs
and hearts
