My words are not beautiful
                        Nor are they unique
Swear they've all been said before
                              Confessions of the meek
Forever dreamed of wearing mask and cape
                                     Presently it's hard to sleep
Close my eyes so I can lie awake
                                                             Thinking of promises I didn't keep.

Interesting
                          How I hold so firmly to the times I've been wronged
Yet
                                               Carelessly lose grip of when I was not right

and i will grow roses on my windowsill hoping you follow the butterflies back to me...//

I'm not scared of death,
I'm afraid of what happens after.