I can tell the truth without speaking
I can admit without looking into saddened eyes
I can dream without sleeping
I can convey a tone with my lips closed in disguise
I can let it all spill out knowing I can hit delete
I can think aloud in silence
I can let out a frantic cry and remain completely discreet
I can interchangeably exercise conformity and defiance
I can turn a wish into a goal with strokes on the keyboard
I can tend to my own wounds
I can create my own articulated rewards
Writing poems keeps my thoughts from swirling into typhoons
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
I can tell the truth without speaking
I can admit without looking into saddened eyes
I can dream without sleeping
I can convey a tone with my lips closed in disguise
I can let it all spill out knowing I can hit delete
I can think aloud in silence
I can let out a frantic cry and remain completely discreet
I can interchangeably exercise conformity and defiance
I can turn a wish into a goal with strokes on the keyboard
I can tend to my own wounds
I can create my own articulated rewards
Writing poems keeps my thoughts from swirling into typhoons
