I died inside and shut the door
Just climbed inside, but just before
I slammed it shut, I saw you there
The only soul to look with care.
You saw this boy. You saw my tears.
I'd hid both well throughout the years.
You found my inward river flow.
That's filled me up, my hollow soul.

I'd lost some things since I was young
All my feelings except for one.
See emptiness had chose to stay,
And dig a hole in which to play.
The dirt he scooped was made of me
My likes, my cares, my hopes and dreams.
The hole he made just grew in size
Enough to hide me deep inside.

The tears I cried they filled the rest
Soaked inside out this hollow chest.
My lonely cave, this empty soul
These shovel-fulls had took their toll
And so I hid, as our eyes met
I latched the door without regret
I'd had too much to stop this train
The breaks were gone, just too much pain.

So just don't knock leave me alone.
My hollowed hole is my new home.
Inside these walls is where I'll stay.
Don't write, don't call just go away.
These four walls, a haven I've made,
Save me from what was dug away,
But still keep me from moving on
This door, these walls, could this be wrong?

.

I sought the opinion
of a sharp dressed guy
selling sunbeams
by the side of the road

He told me
if I wanted to succeed
I should sell sunglasses
across the street

I took his advice
and as soon as I opened
he held a huge sale
on clouds

Looking over at me
he winked, pointed up
and the rains came…
I hate salesman

Your eyes resembled the troubled waters at sea,
always shimmering, churning, crashing, always making me wonder if you had sky blue galaxies trapped inside of you.

And your smile always looked as if it had been carved into your face with the same instrument used to make those marks on your arms.

I found comfort in your sadness, because that was the only time you were true to yourself.

I found comfort in your freedom. I always loved seeing you live carelessly, daringly. Insubordinate to anyone who tried to stop you.

Sometimes it worried me to see you scratch your skin after you cursed about destroying everything you touched.

Sometimes it worried me to see you lose yourself among the empty bottles of alcohol.

You were burdened with a heavy heart, and like the pupils in your eyes and the emotion in your smile and the sound of your laugh, it was vacant.

And all I could say was, maybe, just maybe, if you unclenched your fists you would've found that you were holding onto nothing.

Yeah I'm fine

I just tripped
Off a cliff

I'm just chipped
Into a million pieces

It's only a scratch
But I'm bleeding out

I'm fine as always
*Just dying inside

She’s got a china smile. She’s got China stare.
She’s got a china comb to comb her china hair.
She’s got a china man. He’s her china spouse.
They live a china life- two china kids in a china house.

He’s got a china boss. She’s got a China cooker.
He’s got a china ******* and he’s got a china ******.
She’s got some china debt, he’s got some china money.
He’s got some china stress and she’s got that china honey.

And from this broken china house two china children lose their ways.
Until they step out onto the concrete streets and leave behind those china days.

They’ve got a concrete hunger.
They’ve got a gravel gut.
They’ve got the blood of the streets;
They bleed bricks when they get cut.

Please don’t call me beautiful
when your hands are between my legs,
and god forbid you say it as a seg-way
between you’re so hot
and my caution, your response
you’re sure you don’t want to?
I’m pretty sure the way my body looks,
nineteen and stress-infused with an Oreo belly
isn’t really what you pictured beneath my blouse,
and I’m positive you didn’t listen
to the story about my dad and the bad prom dress
because you cared. It was just sentiment. You said it was beautiful,
but really you wanted me to believe the act
like a description in the Playbill
and ride that trust all the way until the curtain dropped.
Please don’t call me beautiful
when the word ******* is before it
or if we are ******* because making love
is for married couples and you don’t even want me
sticking around for the ****** sunrise that peers
underneath your shade every morning.

Tell me I’m beautiful when I’m crying—
crack me open and watch the colors bleed
like a painting that hasn’t dried. Admire
the light that peaks through the clear parts
like a windowpane, no blinds.
Tell me I’m beautiful when I’m laughing,
when I’m reading my favorite part of a book,
when I’m stuffing my face with peanut-butter
pretzel bites and I haven’t washed my sheets in weeks,
and I’ll know you can’t be lying
because I’ve listened to the waves your heart makes
when you’re sleeping and I’ve called your smile
to the surface many times when you’ve tried
to deflect it back inside. You’ll know that
and you’ll know I’m beautiful.  
Call me beautiful
when you’re not even trying.
Call me beautiful when you’re by yourself
and the smell of my hair is still on your pillow,
or the memory of how dumb I sounded
singing my favorite song breaks your heart back
to the best little pieces.

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my *******,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.