Falling faster than her tears
she sees no bottom to hit.
She has black leather wings
but each with past ripped through it
and they are too slow to heal
with the wind that blows through.
She tries to will them closed again
because she knows it's what she must do.
Sometimes she'll focus on the rush
and it can be so numbing
but the wounds do still bleed
and the pain just keeps on coming.
She can't catch the wind
'cause it's slipping through her wings
and whistles through her wounds like demonic singers.
She can't catch the wind
'cause it's tearing through her dreams
and she's holding out her hands
but it's slipping through her fingers.
From too far away
I want to catch a crying angel
but can I really say
that I should catch trying angel.
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