I never want them
To know I struggled

They loved me so much

But I want others to know I have struggled despite this love

knowing my limits
helps me beyond most would understand
i can finally
rest my tired muscles
feed my hungry stomach
rest my restless mind
and let the superstars take the weight of the world of looking and being perfect
on their shoulders
instead of mine

i just don't want anyone to hurt
like i've hurt
and i've never even really been hurt
that badly so
sometimes the world feels
unbearable
if that makes any sense
at all

I think
There is maybe a mutual understanding
Both for the best interest of ourselves and each other
That we put ourselves first
That we know we'd be okay
Though maybe not quite so happy
If the other left

A part of me thinks this love
May mean more than
The one who'd risk his life because
Without me this man could still live
He just would rather his life with mine in it

I think I was only made to be a mother
But this century is telling me to be more
And I'm scared I can't

I really think sometimes
I was born to be an artist

This brain
This heart
These sleepless nights

But these hands
Tremble through every art piece
And spasm across strings
throat or instrument
And the words I write
I know, aren't as good as they feel getting out

But
I must remember
That's what art is
Art is your soul escaping you

Even if the end product, you can't stand to look at or listen to

Art is soul escaping from body

And if you

Or I in this matter

Can't appreciate that

Well, you thought you knew what art was

But you don't

maybe I hate when I can't get you so much
because in your grip is the only time
I feel my fists unclutch