i built a house on flower petals the voices grew high around me winter, spring, fire, fall, the plants withered in the summer heat
the vines grew high around me i tried to find a pattern but the plants withered in the summer heat my home was just funeral pie and soot
i tried to find a pattern but there was too much to see my home was just funeral pie and soot my vision burned all i could be
there was too much to see but my tears can feed my daughter's field my vision burned down all i could be but the future will not be forsaken
wrote this about my **** and all of the ensuing abuse. while in a lot of ways i gave up on ever being okay again, i refuse to believe that the future will stay so rocky, and i will continue to speak out against violence