It's a dawn that breaks
into your mind's
adamantly cold exterior.
And maybe it's just
a naive maybe
but you can't help
looking for an excuse
to run, hide, escape
from your reality
of always hurting,
that follows her everywhere.
This lie can't break through
your crumbling glamour,
but maybe sparks will burn
through the ice
that's choking her heart
Until she can catch
the stowaway train
that'll finally
take her from you.
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