My mind.
Full of deafening silence.
My heart.
Full of deadening rhythms.
My eyes.
Full of empty space.
My mouth.
Void of anything to say.

Oh God, no more.

O, little house.
Little house of memories.
With old locked doors
And missing keys
Places to go, things to see.
O, little house.

O, tiny house.
Tiny of house of no more laughter
Simply staring
It's children after
A great heavy weight upon its rafters.
O, tiny house.

O, lonely house.
Who is left to you this day?
All your children
Gone away.
Maybe they'll be back some day.
O, lonely house.

O, aging house.
Once a place of joy and learning.
Left alone
Left dearly yearning
The backs of children you raised now turning.
O, aging house.

This world has a lot to take in.
It turns and turns stopping for no one
While I just sit and take it all in,
Take turns, take turns. Waiting for the next one.
No, this first-grade paradigm
That controls how I think and see what's fair
Doesn't really apply this time.
Cause first-grade knowledge isn't for just anywhere.
It's for the classroom,
The safe room.
The place where I sit and wait room.
I'm dying just to break through.
But I can't. See they hate you.

They take what they think is theirs.
Never waiting for the rule of turns.
Never thinking how the world fares.
When every bridge they cross burns.
What about the rest of us?
How are we supposed to move forward?
When none but the "very best" of us
Move on past our story's fore-word?
It's horrible and grueling.
Cause the "special ones" are ruling.
They ask, "Who you fooling?"
You'll always be a normal.

Why can't we all be special ones?
Why can't we all have that privilege?
Why must we all be the fretful ones,
Always worried about our image?
Worried that we won't look right.
Or that we won't be up to *****.
Cause when we take off our makeup each night
We no longer feel like enough.
No, it's too much.
Our minds are filled with thus and such.
But thus and such are just a crutch.
When we aren't enough.

At least, that's what they tell us.
Make us think we have to be gods.
Cause honestly that's the best way to sell us.
It doesn't matter if they're frauds.
See Humanity longs to be sufficient.
Able to satisfy itself.
So we do what we can with vision.
But leave our skills up on the shelf.
It doesn't matter or make sense.
To make some sort of recompense
When we never lost our innocence
Except by failing ourselves.

See, we fail to see our potential.
That special thing that makes us us.
But in the end it's the most essential.
It's the only thing we can trust.
Whether it's our brain, or our brawn,
Our very will to survive.
It's the very thing that let's us press on
The only think that makes us alive.
We have talents, our gifts.
But our spirits they need lifts
That come through paradigm shifts
From what's fair to what's real.


It's a hard disparity to master.
But in the end it's always alright.
Cause it's only part of growing up.
Seeing the changes that came overnight.

Yep.
Broken.
Scared.
Hopeful?
Tired.
Alone.
Curious.
Sad.
Hopeful.
Sa­d.

Guess what?
I'm doing well for once.
It seems surreal
That my heart and mind agree
Things are alright
But something itches
I thought, a laugh, a word.
Yes, it itches me
Demanding that I notice it's there.

See that thing is fear
The twisted, stomach turning fear
That loud fear.
It's loudest when all is calm
When I'm safe.
Say from my usual life
Because when we're safe from one thing
Another arises
The cycle is endless.

And it scares me
See that's what fear does
Makes you scared
Makes you look over your shoulder
It's maddening
Waiting, watching it's every move
See the scariest
The very worst things in life
Are always right in front of us

We can always imagine wrong
If we can't see
We can never be sure of our fear
Know exactly
But then there are things known
Things obvious
Those are the most terrifying
They haunt me
Unrelenting.

Or rather,
It haunts me.
That one fear
That one thing that always nags
Always itches
The one fear of all fears
The fear of falling short,
You see friends,
I fear failure.

I fear being left wanting
Fear when I'm not enough
Fear when something is left undone
When I miss a note
Miss a line
Forget a gift
Can't be enough
Because I feel it in the past
And still do.

Oh how I do.
The scars scream it
My brain screams it
I cover my ears in desperation
But no it's not that easy.
See this fear
It's part of my thoughts
Part of my mind
Part of me.

And yet, I'm okay.
See I have grown accustomed
My scars are  white
That sickly permanent white
Inescapable, unchangeable
Yes my scars are part of me now
Their deep it's true
And their numb to this day
But they're mine.

Yes. They're my scars.
So acceptance is my only option
Infection? Acceptance.
Pain? Acceptance.
It's my only answer
This is my fear.
So I must except it.
I have no choice
I must except it.

What if I told you that I'm raw?
What if I told you that I'm broken?
What if I told you I feel like crying?
Well. I do.

What if I told you that I'm burdened?
What if I told you that I'm sad?
What if I told you that I'm empty?
Well. I am.

Everything I feel is enough to end me
Everything thought is torture
Every time I look around
All I feel is alone.

But... Maybe not.
See I found something.
Something that fills me with joy.
Something lift me up.

A single flower.
It's a bit tattered and worn
But I sympathize with it.
And it understands me.

In the light of day it's beauty abounds
At night it's color won't fade
Cause this flower is true, consistent
And is committed to growth

Sure the flower has it's flaws
It's colors may sometimes fade
But that's ok.
Nothing perfect deserves real love.

No I love this flower.
How I do doesn't matter.
All that matters is that it made the difference
In my darkest hour.

Yes it made the difference
Between death and life
All I hope is that someday
I can repay my beloved flower.

I'll do what I can to nurture it,
Put it in the light as the day ages
And at night I'll put it back where it belongs
Cause even a small flower has it's place.

From now on though,
I hope it's place is near me.
Cause this flower made all the difference.
And it's all I need.

Yes, it made all the difference.
I just hope I can return that precious gift.

I can't cry.
I sit amongst pillars of stone
My mind is empty
The pillars whisper things unknown
I'm left in my thoughts
They scare me
Because they're empty
And I can't cry.

Stop complaining.
My head is shot by my heart
See its past took form
Made a solid pain tipped dart
That was true to its Mark.
Yes everything hurts
And I'm alone.
But I'll stop complaining.

I can't stop singing.
No, the melody is my rescue
From the ocean's sting
On fresh new cuts in me that ring
With dissonance in my mind.
Has my harmony gone?
Is that all?
I can't stop singing.

I can't stop thinking
Each thought brings new pain
To old wounds
That sting like never before
My skin won't stop crawling.
I'm infected.
My thoughts are parasites.
I can't stop thinking.

The hurt isn't leaving.
My mind tells me what I know
The things it says are true
But see I choose to act on them
And that makes all the difference.
No matter what I feel
I chose right.
But the hurt isn't leaving.

It should be leaving.
I made these decisions after all
But sometimes we do what hurts
And have to deal with side effects
That we never intended
My painful dialogue.
Your painful laugh.
It should be leaving.

Please, I beg it, leave.
But it won't
Another has set it loose
This cancer on my heart
No, now it's everywhere
Because it's a cancer
And it hurts
So I beg it to leave

This pain is mine.
I made mistakes in what I said
And in what I did.
Now here I sit in consequence
The greatest hurt I've ever known.
It's excruciating
And I started it.
This pain is mine.

But there's another.
Something has twisted the blade
Pulling more blood from me
I smiling wish I had more to give
But I'm dry.
I loved this thing.
I'd have given my life.
But there's another.

It's all the same.
The thing I love twisted the knife
See I put the knife there
Is it happy?
I stabbed myself. Why does it twist it
I don't know
I wouldn't twist that blade
But it's all the same.

Can't cry.
Musn't complain.
Don't stop singing.
Don't stop thinking.
Hurt won't leave.
Hurt should leave.
Please, hurt, leave.
Hurt is mine.
It's all the same.
It's all the same.
It's all the same.
It's all the same...