i believe in a gentle kind of love
all soft and soothing and
just right
when i am so terribly, irritatingly fragile
fingers running down my back while we lie
rib to rib, heart to heart
listening to the beat, and to the breath
and perhaps it is that, in this world of rough and tumble
of screaming and aching, to believe in a love kind and sweet is
a naivety but i find that
because of all this roaring outside our window, i much prefer
to think of that love sweet and kind
and us, tangled around each other, i think, yes

i find that i believe in a gentle sort of love

What does it mean to cry
When feelings stay locked from the
Surface
Emotions I fear
Crammed into small tears
The tears that I make myself
Forfeit

What does it mean to hurt
When the scars are from those
Who don’t know you
They’ve watched you grow up
And you feel their love
But they don’t know the real you

When I’m asleep I run
Down a path in a gold
And green
Meadow
And someone’s out there
With true love to share
Then I wake in the real world
Feeling alone

Alone
I’m home
That shouldn’t be so
Where’s the log to my fire?
Because I’m working for me
And I’ll never retire

Bring on the thunder!
Bring on the rain!!
There’s no true life
Without some small pain
So I’ll be the thunder!
And I’ll be the rain!!
I know how to cry now
So I’ll work through the pain

If I’m coming alive
I acknowledge I hurt inside
My tribulation brought me to salvation
I had to suffer to write
I don’t need you to understand my plight
Just know that I’m coming alive