Now I dwell in estrangement.

They broke me too,
they shattered me within.
From darkened panes the waters fell,
a clock struck
in the thunderous hollow of emptiness.

They broke me too—
perhaps they were lonely,
perhaps they had no childhood
and all the songs
were locked against them,
and no young girl’s fingers
ever touched their hair.

They broke me too,
and now I am estranged.
No rain falls upon my trees,
I drink no water though thirst consumes me.

They broke me too—
a cold death,
sharp as a blade,
drove itself into my mind.

And yet—
I am a song,
the morning born anew.