My life started at heart break.
I was in kindergarten
and she was a full foot taller.

I've lived and died countless times
and with each new heart-break
I realize that I'd rather be
broken than over it.
Dieing a little
is worth the price
of loving,
of being loved
of living...

There's opportunity in the ashes.
Tell me; do you see it too?

Lead me away from this place,
and let us speak no more
of this failure
this disgrace.

Teach me how to feel
as I stand here cold -
my shoes soaked,
on a boulevard
where no one knows my name.

In Florida sometimes it rains so hard
that you believe that it can't possibly stop,
that it will just rain and rain forever.

Sometimes I'd wake to a storm late at night,
and I'd sit out on the porch.

You could smell the lightning, and the coolness of the storm would
make your hair stand;
I'd feel so alive.

Some nights I'd go out, and my father
would be sitting on the porch already.
Lost in the storm
or maybe
called to it.
We wouldn't talk,
but we'd be lost together
in the rain and thunder.

Sometimes I wonder what of him
is left in me.
I am not sure
if I am more afraid of there being
very little
or of there being a great deal,
but when it rains
I think about him on that porch;

Waiting for results
Itching to consult
The fears I have fallen
The fears are growing sullen
Waiting to continue
The fears I'm buried into

But only to retrieve
The dirt that's underneath
Thinking I'm broken
I believe that's under spoken

So leaf subsides to decay
And people attempt to stay
In a world no black nor white
In a world that's painted grey