Shes a glass of whiskey and coke
Shes a hit with a definite choke
Shes an untamed wildflower in May
Shes a destined part of the day
Weather you see her or not shes most certainly there
From those torn up jeans to that fiery hair
Shes most likely to turn up everywhere
With a face like hers she can blend with the crowd
But when its time for her to stand out
****
She can make a room stare.
Shes a magician with an umexplainable act
Shes the leader of a suicide pact
When she says jump most ask how high
And i guess thats what shes trying to define
With the envy of others on her side
All she tries now is to hide
But she cant quite make it
Can you see why
Shes a poet with sparkles in her eyes
So any man will meet their demise
Just to convince her shes worth their time.

If you catch me falling, I might fall for you.

She never thought she'd see sunrise

Sometimes I can't help but contemplate
If I could break the mold my family had created
And filled with cynicism and passive-agression
Then I see how I had broken it long ago
When I was the first to try and destroy family ties
For the sake of my sanity and they wondered what was wrong with me
That's when I realized
Family can be your own worst enemy

She could only lay in wonder
How can someone so whole
Love someone so full of holes

I am a brainwashed, pompous, white girl.
I am a blonde haired zombie.
I am an unspecified music genre.
I am an incoherent thought in the brain of a broken society.

I am the result of a hard-*** Catholic and half-*** Baptist.
I am the consequence of a hard mother and an absent father
I am a product of a corrupted America.
I am a privileged white statistic.

I constantly play the victim.
I constantly hold myself responsible.
I constantly lie, cheat, and steal
I constantly prove I am a hypocrite.

I am simple, indecisive, and manipulative.
I am myself and then contradict myself by being someone else.
I am human, but unadorned.

I am a blank canvas which manifests contradictions and inabilities.
I am a snowflake made of stone.
I am an uninterested, direct line of truth spurts

I am plain.
As you see from my complexion, I am pale.
As you hear from my words, I am a refutation of minority.

I am not unique, I am not creative.
I am not what you think I am.
I am not who you think I am.

But if you knew who I was:
Would you leave?

She wanted to know
Just why he kept leaving her