i built a house on flower petals
the voices grew high around me
winter, spring, fire, fall,
the plants withered in the summer heat
the vines grew high around me
i tried to find a pattern but
the plants withered in the summer heat
my home was just funeral pie and soot
i tried to find a pattern but
there was too much to see
my home was just funeral pie and soot
my vision burned all i could be
there was too much to see
but my tears can feed my daughter's field
my vision burned down all i could be
but the future will not be forsaken
wrote this about my **** and all of the ensuing abuse. while in a lot of ways i gave up on ever being okay again, i refuse to believe that the future will stay so rocky, and i will continue to speak out against violence