She's falling from grace,
She's all over the place.
With a mango in her left hand and a knife in her right
and her rustling, bustling steps putting bluejays to flight
She feels more like an albatross, everywhere to go;
but no compass in her heart, no North to call home.
And staring through the banister beams
will only make her tear ducts burst at the seams
Hiding the truth isn't not right
it's not running away, it's taking flight.
Courage came neither from bottle nor knife,
nor the rope that refused not to hold down her life;
It came from the memories, worn out