Flower petals do not die
Fold them neatly
And place them on my upper thigh
Think about how they do treat me
Like I’m the thorn to a rose
Wishing to ***** their pointer finger
They don’t know me I suppose
Maybe when I grow up I’ll be a drinker
Drink myself to death and beyond
slouch upon my ***** couch
Thinking about the time when I was blond

i think we got it wrong
when we think of strong

for its not a mind
that thinks of me and mine

or controlled
by need or greed

its one thats gone inside
and dissolved all internal needs
and turns towards the world
with hearts and hands of kind

I liked connecting the dots when I was younger—
drawing a line from dot to dot to make the picture.
My tongue between my teeth, with concentration traced on my face
as I connected the dots to make the picture.

I still like connecting the dots.
But now, I’m trying to make the picture of who I am now—
why I am the way I am now.
Connecting the dots to find out what happened
to the old me—the hopeful me, the happy me.

Connecting the dots to find the events that led up
to this different person I’ve become,
connecting the dots to make the picture of me now, inside and out.

I’ve connected the dots.
There is no picture—just a jumble of lines
leading in no clear direction, passing over each other, and lines cut off, just one massive knot of confusion.

So, with my tongue between my teeth
and concentration traced on my face,
I’m trying to make a new picture.
No dots, no lines—just me,
making the best new me I can.

A little boy plays by the river,
Slips on wet rock by the stream,
He scrapes his knee.

He cries from the pain,
But his buddies laugh it away.
And he becomes a man,
Because grow men don't cry, right?

I want to say I’m tired of me
But I know more now
Im not the hole in her shoe
I'm not the broken umbrella in the storm

When the ghost of abandonment tries to make it's presence
The tell is known by it's unbelievable burn
My soul wants to start crumbling again
My heart starts to wither per automatic

It was their choice
Maybe I wasn’t even the reason they left
Maybe I wasn’t thrown away
Or maybe I was
But its not on me
Its on the who made that decision

Im trying to remind myself of my worth
Someone’s choice shouldn’t determine my worth
It have ruled my love and brokenness for so long

I know more now
The more you know the more you are
I am more