The rose bud is tired
It had a beautiful fly
Then a soil let it be

Stay broken
Into a million pieces
Don't let them piece you back together
Like a story you did not choose to be
Stay down and sink
Resurrect
When you can escape
Machine gun Kelly

Sometimes
I talk like an unattractive woman
I flower my words
Make them pretty
And forget
That a man made me feel beautiful

Resting
Maybe when I'm brave enough to
I'll lay my head on a pillow
Close my eyes
Look inside
I'll say
I'm home at last

This place is tired
I'm tired bored
I want to be done with it
I also know your mouth moving doesn't matter

She's like ink on parchment paper
Solid with faded edges
She's got a lot of weight while being light
Trying to make sense of the shape
At the same time respecting it
I respond in kind by being weightless, a feather quill
To her I am a threaded needle, continuously progressing into a seam
Starting from the beginning until the end
Making a garment without any shape or form
Responding in kind with a letter of my own
A
Ey!
Hey.
As cryptic as where we started
It has potential to end
If I continue our thread there could be a *** of gold that isn't a fool's
There could be a painting made for my frame
There is something about her skin that deserves solid lines
That stretches out toward the strobe lights
That makes its way toward the true light
If paradise was meant for the wicked
Then we are created to balance good and evil

My worth is not seen by the harrowing nature of my own eyes
I have seen too many lives pass before me
They are wilted
Jilted by an unrequited dream
Lives that are my own because I always place myself inside your heart
If I could take the next bus home it would be toward that time when
I was 10
I hugged my Papa so tight because he was at my birthday party
That would both be the sad and happy time for me
Only to experience great loss and great gain and great forgetfulness
The fear of neglect is so close to my heart
That when I feel any sort of bird born in my cages
It is also a trap to set it free
There is a song sung before it flies away:

"Premature maturity
The never ending running man
In one place is a rot on my mind
Until it dies of nothing
Because my body is where ideas come to grow and die and bear fruit
My body is where I am alive for the new roots to plant itself in my skull
To listen to the whisper of the woman in my ear
She says she is my mother
There is nothing to fear"

But why Mama did you leave us?
To grow in a place where nobody knows us
To belong in a world where you are rejected
Your children feeling nothing but loneliness

The back of my head is haunted by a man looking over my shoulder
He sees everything I have searched for
I find nothing
But he finds me without fail
He knows everything

That man inside this cage of mine
His nose is broken, his grin is crooked like a hunger inside him is restless
There is a dark pit I cannot find
If I find it I might just get lost in thought
Pondering on an idea I can't quite remember
My mind treads unto idea upon idea
Until the stores have closed
It's nothing short of a shame
I don't mind your sorries
I only mind the explanations

If you could only find me my father again