A poet out of me
The thing I thought to be
When nights like this decide to creep
And take away the sleep

A poet out of me
The thing I thought to be
When my stubborn lungs
Decided not to breathe

A poet out of me
When my heart bleeds
And my throat dry
My hope take its flee
And my eyes cry

A poet out of me
When there's nothing left to be
Because I've been so many things
I can't distinguished anymore what's "me"

- the ink wash away the pain better than water