I deserve to breathe, I deserve to live,
But their calloused minds have nothing left to give.

"We have every right to fight for you"

Don't I have the right to fight for me too?

What you call a shield, feels like a sword.
What you think is best for me slices at this cord.
A cord now cut between you and I,
A silence that thickens the air inside.

I deserve to breathe, I deserve to live,
But they don't see all I have to give.

I am fighting a war that can't be won,
Time will set me free, on the run.
And all I want is to make them rage,
I scream for the freedom outside the cage.

I cannot breathe, stuck inside this cell,
My heart is breaking inside this shell.
You cut me off, you cut my soul,
You blocked the door to that which makes me whole.

I can't do this.
My locked up lungs have never breathed in bliss.

I hope you see yourself in the things that I do,
I hope you see my eyes staring back at you.

Don't think for a moment that I didn't put you there,
Don't think for a moment that I don't care.

Because I do.
I do.
I do.
I do.
Words you never said to me, words she always said to you.

I hope one day you hear my name,
And watch my art scream my pain.
I hope you see my story told,
Finally free, your words getting old.

I have written you down, I have moved you through my feet,
I have sung you out loud, and I have saved you a seat.

So please, come and watch my display,
My performance of grief, I am the author of this play.
This dance, this art that holds your name,
I hope that you see you too, because I do the same.

when i was a child i had a siamese cat
we found him, alone, abandoned
outside of our home
we took him with us when we left

he never liked to be inside too much
but he loved me with all of his soul
refusing to leave me be and
resting on my lap until my legs were numb

he was aggressive and mean to his own kind
never letting other cats wander upon
his territory, but he expressed a tolerance
for the young kittens next door

one day he began searching the house
climbing into the bathtubs, across furniture
on the counters, meowing incessantly
until he decided to go outside

we opened the door for him and he happily
trotted away, and in the morning we
discovered he found what he was searching for
he was searching for a place to die.

The beauty of a woman
is in the poems she's wrote,
the dreams she's weaved
and all the stories she's told.

The beauty of a woman
is in the adventures she's taken,
the lives she's touched
and all the minds she's awakened.

The beauty of a woman
is in the caring she gives,
the sincerity in her laughter,
and the passion in her griefs.

It's not the expensive clothes she owns,
her body size, the diamonds she's worn.
Measure not the beauty of woman in gold,
for the beauty of a woman is reflected in her soul.

it's easy to miss you
because my arms feel so empty
when you're not in them
and there's nothing here
for them to hold
that's nearly as grand as you

it doesn't have to be romantic
i'd get them myself if i could
just a big, bunch of flowers
it's very easily understood

because it would make me happy
it's a gift full of life
they don't have to mean much
only to be bright
beautiful, lively
and they only last a while
which makes their presence much sweeter
their time is limited,
but i enjoy them infinitely
and the life they breathe into my lungs

and it'd be nice to know that you're thinking of me, and you just wanted to buy me flowers

we're partners in crime
(if crimes were adventures)
and we were adventurers
(if adventures were conversations)
and we shared discussions
(if discussions were love songs)
and you made me sing them
(if singing was sharing)
and all of your wisdom words and stories
(if lies were true)
and we actually met
(if i wasn't me)
and you weren't you
(if we weren't friends)
we'd be perfect