
I pave the pale moonlight with my lightest shoes,
Bruises on my neck as if you needed more proof
That where I come from is a land of temptation
But it has nothing to do with my destination.
The chimneys cry charcoal mascara tears,
Smeared across their cheeks by well-meaning peers.
The dusty air holds the start of another story
I’ll make up while these empty roads bore me.
And the dark parts of my mind sting like darts,
Hard to point them away from the wounded parts.
My joints tell me to look back once more
But I know I’ll get enchanted by all the gore.
I just pave the night, I keep braving the night
As sister moon mirrors rays so I stay in light.
Once the sun sweats over the evergreen trees,
The lures behind my back wail like banshees.
-JW