You think you are intense,
I carry poetry inside of me,
The endless depth of rapture, of feeling, of wonder and despair,
The unseen face before which nothing could stand,
The unseen place where you can lose yourself with nothing to spare,
I show the world the fair side,
Inside me is a storm,
That can burn things, heal things, unleash things that the world has never seen,
I can take you to places you have never been,
I let go of this,
Cause I’d rather be this beautiful mess,
I’d rather be a lone storm,
I’d rather hold on to it than let it go,
Consistency is safety,
Which you cannot give....
I get that....
But it’s amiss....
I’d rather hold forth alone,
That the glimmer of hope,
I’d rather make myself home....
Than depend on you,
But hope....