In the night this woman becomes a little girl.
She feels mighty small in this gigantic world.
Alone in the room. No one sees her there.
Just a quiet ghost sitting in an empty chair.
She's seen sunny days and cloudy rain showers.
Over time she's seen the growth of these beautiful flowers.
But with the reccuring events she has grown so bored.
It's like some ancient object that was once adored.
The item is precious and makes up her dreams.
But from her sleep she awakes with heartbreaking screams.
Fear sets in. It takes its toll.
It devours her heart and leaves a hole.
Her God. Her solution. He's very close.
And in His hands she places her highest hopes.
She looks to her right and to her left.
She realizes God is the only One left.
She prays for a change and a brand new flame.
With everything she has, she calls on His name.
Of course she bruises. She's only human.
But in the morning this little girl will become a woman.

so this is what its like
to be a woman
fall in love
way too fast
way too hard
leaving with a heart
not scratched
but scarred
so this is what its like
to be a woman
lose your innocence
way too young
to someone
who has never,
will never
love you
and while you're at it
abort his son, too...
so this is what its like
to be a woman
carry the burden
of years
of pain
on her shoulders
in her womb
in her tears
hopes
dreams
and
fears
so this
is what its like
to be
a
woman

They have an app for everything
Apply this apple application vigorously
I need an app for this confusion
Where’re all the apps for my delusions
Hallucinations seem pretty nice
But I rather control them with an app
Delirium is no friend of mine
They control it with an app
All of these buttons produce bad business
You’re the ones who push them, I’m the witness
They take their pictures with an app
Photoshop the eye of the beholder
It’s the witching hour
They shout it from the watchtower
They climb up and down the ladder
They train the cruelest adders
With or without an app

When I consider, pro and con,
What things my love is built upon--
A curly mouth; a sinewed wrist;
A questioning brow; a pretty twist
Of words as old and tried as sin;
A pointed ear; a cloven chin;
Long, tapered limbs; and slanted eyes
Not cold nor kind nor darkly wise--
When so I ponder, here apart,
What shallow boons suffice my heart,
What dust-bound trivia capture me,
I marvel at my normalcy.