I hadn't cried in so, so long,
And here I thought that made me strong,
I was wrong,
If we don't mourn for what we've lost,
We aren't above the pain,
We are afraid,
The hardest part of life, you see,
Is to practice,
What you preach,
I've been preaching endlessly,
My years,
All gone in speech,
But who am I to tell you so,
When I myself don't even know,
How best to proceed,
I'm but a girl, stuck in her head,
With a heart, sick and full of dread,
Open and in need,
Looking to every vice I can,
To stifle what I understand,
The truth is far too real,
What I choose is who I am,
Before I run and hide again,
I must; I choose to feel.