It was in the magic of the forest, the colours of the deserted road
That I tasted the warmth of the Sun, and learnt to drink the bitter ocean whole

It was in the stirring of sugar and milk in aromatic tea
It was when each of my bones ached and desired, and I was brought down to my knees

It was when something like the river current blew a hurricane inside of me
That I hungered and lusted and craved to know what it was like being free

I felt the wind gently caress my face, it fondly teased and played with my hair
I felt the water enfold me, tenderly its bubbles and droplets delved into my skin, raw and bare

The earth cradled me like a child, the soft milky moonlight touched my skin, and feasted it's eyes upon me, not naked but exposed
They say the mountain is naked, how odd. They simply can't see her drapped under silken white snows

The girl was a novel awaiting to be read,
Sitting on a oak shelf with endless colors in her hair.
She wore her scars hidden behind her parchment clothes,
Dreaming about a chapter that had yet to be exposed.

She spent her days between the pages,
Falling behind in the world's story.
She had read herself so many times,
that she had forgotten to read the world once.

The girl was a novel awaiting to be read,
by someone rather than herself.
She had been consumed in her own pages,
lost in a sea unfathomably alone.

The girl never once turned to look beside her;
at the row of books left untouched on the same shelf.
They had always been there in their rainbow sea of colors;
their binders tattered and titles exposed.

She believed herself to be a book,
never a reader.

The oak shelf did nothing but
support her.

The girl was a novel awaiting to be read.
The girl was a novel awaiting to be favored.

I'm not sure if it's allergies,
Or maybe anxiety;
But burning tears come to my eyes,
And I deal with them quietly.

I always forget to take a breath—
Whether it's stolen away,
Or whether it catches in my throat,
Because there's nothing I can say.

A cold lump moved into my stomach—
It hasn't moved for weeks;
And the nausea that comes upon me
Drains the color from my cheeks.

Icicles of panic stab
My raw and tender conscience;
The voices inside my head keep screaming,
"No!" And I have to constantly fight this.

I can't sit still and just take this
I shudder, shiver and shake
I feel exposed and yet alone
How much more can I take?

What is wrong with this body?
And all the emotions inside?
If I could, I'd run to the mountains
To find a place to hide.

Surrounded by friends I think I know,
But who've never known me
I tell myself that that's a lie
I tell myself I'm not lonely.

If I once feel right again
If this throbbing in my head can cease
I'll take that as a sign from above
And soak in every second of peace.

I see them walking down the street without me
All my footprints are covered by the snow
I don't know if they still care about me
If they do, it dosen´t show

The cold wind´s blowing and hits my exposed heart
I am walking faster carrying all my hopes
Despite the snow the road is getting very dark
They're fading into the background in those white winter coats

White coats, white coats
Why do you gotta leave me out in the cold?
White coats, white coats
This shield around me is getting hard to uphold
White coats, white coats
I'm just looking for someone to call my friend
Before the cold wind comes back again

I see them laughing on the corner without me
All my footprints are covered by the snow
Talking about places I´ll never go with them to see
And sharing secrets that I´ll never know

This is the coldest December we've had in years
They are huddled together under the lamppost
I walk away melting the ground with my tears
They don't feel my pain from the warmth of their white coats

White coats, white coats
Why you gotta leave me out in the cold?
White coats, white coats
This shield around me is getting hard to uphold
White coats, white coats
I'm just looking for someone to call my friend
Before the cold wind comes back again

This virtual world still carries weight,
an invisible pond where words echo,
events spiral and ripple,
and we see the masks before the dark.

Evil hides beneath these still waters,
even in the light,
reflected on us all,
but never who we are.

When the dreamer gets exposed to reality not only the dream dies, but the dreamer itself too.