So hush yourself.
The sounds we hear can only fly us out to the ocean.
Your eyes say everything that you can’t;
the streaming shows your hardened heart.
The arms will come around you as you

Heave the air across their shoulders,
and shower you with sympathy.
To ease what’s left of what was left here,
the crying symphony.

It’s safe to speak.
Nothing can hurt you if it’s not beneath your skin.
So dress your self in colors you see fit,
to fit you through this hole that you’re going through.

And though the words don’t quite fit,
the colors fit you fine.
To find yourself beside a casket burning to the ground. Walking past the flames, you see,
it’s only the beginning of this path,
back to our home.

And home is where the heart is…
Home is where your heart is.