If I was good with words, where would I be?
Would I be in the position I am currently in?
Would I be better off?
Questions I've always had,
Answers never recieved.
Seriously though,
If I was good with words,
None of my messages would be interpreted wrong
None of my confrontations would end with the wrong impression
None of my presentations in class would consist of me babbling nonsense
And I would always know 100% that everything I said made sense,
because I'd be good with words.
Now, I know, People still may interpret things differently.
Someone might take my, "good worded phrase" and assume something else
I cannot change that, I know
But wouldn't that be cool if we could?
It would save hurt, and miscommunications
It would allow people to understand and move forward
It would bring about more happiness in the world, and that is something I truly care about
If I was good with words
I'd give someone the gift of happiness

She whispered his name each
Night like a prayer waiting to be
Heard by a god she thought was
There. The way the syllables
Swirled round her tongue like an
Ancient tale she didn't know but
Felt when she heard her heart
Beat. The feel of the letters on her
Lips was like a childhood lullaby
She had heard a thousand times
But forgot the words to.
She longed for the person she had
Once known like her first name.

But what she didn't know was that
There are some things that must
Just remain forgotten.

I'd always thought I had more self respect
Than to let someone touch me when I didn't want them to
But I realize now it's not really about self-respect
Not with who I am right now
Because when you're not living for yourself-
Or, let me rephrase that,
You care for other people, so you haven't killed yourself-
You get out of practice with saying what you want
No matter whether you love who you are or not

I want you to stop touching me, it's starting to bother me, to eat away at my happiness before I sleep at night

Some part of me is still the princess
It's how I survive the dark, I play the ultimate innocent part
Trying to be perfect, polite, and kind
I don't want to make you feel bad or apologize
Self-sacrificing
Controllable

It comes down to how controllable I can be
Whether I can make the words fall off my tongue, for myself
Or whether I will bite them off before they begin, for you

*Life for yourself, as quick as you can
It only gets harder the farther away you get

blue roses and unzipped jackets, looks like the cold doesn't want to enter your skin again so its painting guesses on the corner of silver st. and goat lane, you thought that saying its all good baby baby would make your crown look bigger but the diamonds fell off instead