I have been stretching inside my skin
and trying to fully wake myself up.
and still falling short of reaching
where my fingertips seem to be.
I'm falling short of all this potential that I have.
It is an endless pool of possibilities
and I have found myself cowering at the edge.
I found myself struggling to even test these waters.
The Dead Sea is almost impossible to sink in
but there's no promise of a similar salt content here.
I've been bleeding ink
and leaving tire marks over old verses
that never made sense to anyone else
because I thought success was measured by
how others viewed my accomplishments.
How others viewed me.
In that mind set,
everything is monochromatic.
In that mindset,
I would have everything I am
taken at face value alone.
I cannot accept this.
I am so lion-hearted at the end of the day
to let another summer storm wash away
everything I've worked for.
Life is not a series of chalk outlines
and my passion will leave marks
like cave drawings that will make those archeologists scratch their heads with wonder.
They will make new words in old dictionaries
to describe the way my heart burns everything it touches.
I never told anyone why
"go big or go home" was a kick in the teeth
because I didn't think it was a secret
that going home was never an option.
I didn't let my downfall be so simple.
I didn't let myself lose ground
just because I'm more comfortable in a shady park
than in the living room of my parents' house.
The Great Depression is over.
I stopped planning.
I started doing.
Everyone is watching things fall apart
but I'm seeing all the pieces
that are slowly coming together.
There's a battle in Gettysburg,
my head against my heart,
but now it's 1865
And they're finally willing to unearth my promise
I'm finally willing to learn how
to put my ***** hands on something clean.
How to stop shaking and start
dancing to the beat of my own voice
echoing something I am not ashamed of.
And let it be clear that
I'm not ashamed anymore.