It will be alright, my friend

Sometimes your world lights on fire,

Because it needs to burn down.

It hurts a version of me that doesn't exist anymore, a version that is a ghost

because she burned in that fire.

She surrendered herself to the flames,

and sometimes in her memory I shoot fire

into my arms, I don't know why it's done

In her memory, silly scared little girl

She would like that,

But she's dead now. She' s dead,

and I lived, and I don't know if that's good.

I don't know if its better to cry crocodile tears

Or fly with dragons, because as nice as the sky is,

The water is safer, and sometimes in the waves,

I see her there, that old ghost, but she can't see me.

I wish I could hold her hand, palm sweaty,

And tell her she will be alright.