The Joy in Forgetting

And you speak of a fever,
That burns you inside.
As you explain to your mother,
How you wanted to die.
So she kisses your fingers,
Says "My Darling but why?
When there is so much more...
There is so much more..."

Do you know there are spaces,
Open and wide.
Oh believe me, there's days,
Longer than nights.
And you will be happy,
If only you'd try.
Oh won't you try?