Dear Mental
*******! I like who I am & what I do,
Songs I write & hearts I've moved.
Stop replacing good emotion
With regretted locomotions
Old decisions have made me
Worst mistakes have shaped me
& one night stands have tamed me...

Mother stares, eyes full of worry
Morning until Night, she hurries
to offer that same song
"What's Wrong?!"
...
In decline,
My reply
Concealing natural low tone
"Nothing" I sing
Hiding projected forte notes,
as they grasp my throat
& fail to let go
..
A Silent Hold
...
Really though
....

I am
Too afraid
to ever let it show
to confess this breath
to her
that
I Do Not Know
.....

I Just Hurt...

Damaged people love you like a crime scene
Before any crime had been committed
They kept their running shoes right next to their souls every night
One eye opened in case something changed whilst they were asleep

Damaged people love in the most broken way
Damaged people love in the most gentle way
Damaged people do not love
Damaged people love too much

Their backs are always too tense, too tight
Made this way from carrying too many broken things
Because we all know broken things are the heaviest
Just look the weight of a broken heart

Damaged people will love that too
Damaged people love broken things
Because they remind them of themselves

Damaged people take broken things
And love them to the end
Trying to find that one broken thing
That will fit their cracks.

Damaged people love so well

They love like this because they have already seen Hell
And they know that every evil demon
Was once an angel before they fell.