Tis a curse to be gifted by the muses. Why is it that artists go mad, and poets are broken, writers get drunk, and musicians find themselves smoking in the back alleys?
Im not a poet because when lives are on the line i can't twist words to say what i mean im not a poet love is a foreign term too me i still can't use metaphor too display how i feel when he's with me im not a poet all the words i have ever spoken ive thought a thousand times over there's too many words i have left lieing on my lips im not a poet self expression is still an alien weird to me how can i express myself when i don't know who I am im not a poet and yet *im still here
Everything I touch turns to gold. I can't be the one to hold you or wipe away your tears. I long for contact, To feel the warmth of another. I want you, I long for you: But everything I touch turns so cold, And I don't want to be the one to freeze you.