I was born
Without a voice
And given in its place
A way to feel differently
About the things we perceive
To see the bitter crush of reality

I was young
When I found out
What finding is all about
A way to believe differently
About the things that we need
And the reasons behind necessity

I was born
Without a voice
But I found one

I was born
Without a voice
But not by choice
By harsh and dark reality
This light I see I need to share
I found a voice if only to say I care

Because when you feel
No one else is there
I wanted to tell you that I was
I was born
Without a voice
But I found one

As a poet
My words matter more than I do
I'd gladly die
So that they could live forever

I'm sitting on a break with my hands and my feet in space and time, but my thoughts in another dimension

I only remember the taste of a cupcake being a little bit salty but still so sweet that I don't think about the cavities I'll incur while enjoying what I conclude to be the best thing in my life

And hands in time, and feet in space, I used to watch you putting on your watch but never checking it because you always knew what the moment was

My cupcake is gone, and it has been for a little while, but at least I still rememeber the taste, and I have pain in my teeth as a reminder to a memory I'll never forget

I'm sitting on a break, and im breaking

I only want you to come back to me

She's the kind of girl
Who has a hiccup
And thinks its a heart attack
I'm the kind of man
Who doesn't concern myself with what it really is
Only what she thinks it is

And while I nurse her back to health
That she never really lost
I'm dying

I know you're strong.
A force to be embraced and not confined.
I can't grasp you,
You're too powerful.
But I can lay here with you and enjoy your fury.
I can wait for you to move me...

You are a hurricane
I feel your force and I know that you can cause damage.
I do not question your abilities, but I push your boundaries.
I want to hear you crash on my shore and pour down upon me.
Break me.
Don't hold back.
Show me what your made of.

I cried.
Not because you shattered my dreams or ripped my heart out of me.
Not because you destroyed every hope I ever had in men.
Not because you learned to hate me and abused my body and soul.

I cried because as I chopped this onion it forced me to cry. That's just what onions do. Kinda like you. That's just what you do.