In the palms of someone else 

She leaves a part of her behind

Revealing the tip of her thoughts

The rest, always kept in her mind.

So fragile and open was her greatness

And her self inspired by her grace.

But she was hell and never heaven.

Compassionate and able

in any version of reality.

In a hundreds lifetimes,

where even sunshine burns,

She'll be the laughter

She'll be the tears

And all the words you speak

And the future you dream of.

For she was the memories that never mend

And with her, forever seemed too short.