Sunday Munich Tiny
My arms around her
Hold her up against the wind
The sun blinks away
The sky adopts a darkened hue
She is beautiful and tattered
She is almost perfect in every way
Wings tucked neatly
Hands folded purely
She's just so confused
Drowning out the noise inside
Hopes to have a conversation
Without the interference
Decorating her thin flesh
Are the scars of where she's been
Passing time in vein
Wings tucked neatly
Hands folded purely