Handed a featureless map of a city called Grief It's foundations, a gut punch Friendships are catacombs Never shut funeral homes Scrape at the sky With endless spires Streetlights are just black holes Never trust the roads Buildings are open caskets Loss! Rivers are open wrists Loss! Yet you, with yourhope like bird bones Keeps vigil for the lonely night Filling her map with lies Lossbearer, you'll be just fine