dandelions on the side of the road
symbols of hope.. are the weeds where the wild things grow
dad used to call them wishnics...and he said my name like a Texas spell
I’d blow on the seeds but i never could tell
if the wish ever heard me
If the wind ever cared
But they popped up around us
like someone was there

new york weeds in the cracks, my gold dusted disguise
Like the ones we loved and lost, above the skies
Whistling my favorite songs in the breeze
I'm Rapunzel in a house no one sees
Black Widow spider web, blue green dragonfly wing
What kind of magic do the weeds bring?

the flowers are not born, they just appear
no one plants them, they're just here
Like me..just growing alone
carving my name into his heart of stone

Wishnics...
Wishing songs...
No one's wrong for dreaming too long
I walk past the house, the spell inside of me still hums
and I walk free...
I come undone
With poetry

Everyone wants the throne but not the fight
They want my magic but not my night
I’ve seen men beg with their teeth all red
I’ve brought myself
back from the dead.

Gone is the prince and me, now just a crown of weeds
My kingdom’s dead but it still bleeds
If love was a gun, then I surely kissed the chrome
Now I haunt this world like it’s my throne

hauntingly beautiful music in the back of my skull
Life is darkness, ludicrous....Pain full
The bullets ring in my heart and I flinch at every tone
I’m an hourglass soul, fragmented and alone

Michele’s blood whispers in that dark red bloom
a ****** charm cast in a hollow grief stricken room
weeds, shards, and ghostly refrains
I’m whistling through pain, unbroken chains
In a house of glass
my throne, my cell
Darkness is home, and I know it well

She was beauty, she was blood...she is my ice and flame
separated from the living by a killers name
Michele, my mirror, my curse, my pain
my flower that reveals in the May 12th rain

3 shots of silence, she became a beautiful chord
oscillating in my mind, never ignored
Her death becomes dads spell,  a half forgotten song
Weeds bleed gold where she belonged

Michele’s rose in the dust
Love feels more like lust