I'm not sure I'd call it fun for it often has me undone but I'm a writer I could bite off my own tongue and still my silence would be sung through pen and paper 1000 stories in my mind if I could only find the time to speak my truth This is not a simple ryhme listen as it takes hold, blossoms and explodes This is my proof But my words come tumbling out spilling jumbled from my mouth in perfect chaos I sift through the disorder As I struggle against the borders that contain me One day I'll find the words to explain how I see
Lost in their own message hidden among the wreckage is the importance of all the lies unknown to you
My mind interrupts my day whenever it has something to say and I can't fight it