Silver
For Madeline, three days gone
if i could take the silver linings and spin a silver thread, id hoist myself to the heavens; say what we left unsaid id stitch her up with argent to heal the wounds that bled; bled from her broken body until the ground turned red id sew a silver pillow fit for a golden bed to comfort her with all my love and rest her weary head if i could take the silver linings from the clouds that mourn the dead — oh, what i wish that i could make with that shining silver thread.





















