I whisper in the wind
Searching for the sun to win
I’m a pretty sunflower
Won’t you pick me for your whims

Why do the monsters hide away,
till my heart’s decided it’s time to play

Why do whispers slither past,
a brain that’s convinced it’s never going to last

And why does the chorus yell for you,
when I’ve already decided we’re practically through

It’s a song sung too often;
‘Why won’t he like me?’
I ask myself
As I pick the scars of his past to see
Where I could fit, so delicately
I’ll mould and shape, to suit your tastes
Who am I without one to please

My heart isn’t broken
It’s dented in places
I’m rather accident prone you see
With damaged wipers and broken hazards
This muscle is the heaviest machinery

I’m often told to write
for the feeling of escape
most times it does the opposite
i get bogged down in my ways
it taps into emotions
the ones riddled inside my brain
i’m wondering if the art is worth all of my pain.

treading crystal water
waiting for lillies to grow
into my pure limpid eyes
he goes

Lately I’ve been reaching out
and my heart hits roadblocks
before I’ve had a chance to shout

The world spins faster
i’ve lost my seat
who here is left fighting for me