Ever since birth, she's been your little song bird.
She'd sit on the foot of your bed and sing to you as you fell asleep at night.

Even when you're angry with her, she'll make you happy by singing you a song.

Even when you're disappointed in her, she'll gain your faith by singing you a song.

Even when you yell at her, she'll gain your forgiveness by singing you a song.

Even when you disagree with her, she'll compromise by singing you a song.

Even when she's battered and scarred, and broken and crushed by life itself, and is aching for the freedom she so desperately needs,
She'll always sit at the foot of your bed like she did ten years ago, and be your little song bird.

There is a demon in my basement
He likes to sit and sing
About the angels that fall
And the tainted souls he brings

Yvan eht nioj
Boy bands, even cartoon ones
Obvious evil

You're so broken you're on your knees
You're alive but not living
If I could I'd bring you back to life
And that's a promise and definitely a lie to be told

You are your own resurrection
I cannot help you at all
If you fall I will try to catch you
But how can I catch you, if you are only a phantom of what was?
You'd slip right through my fingers like grains of sand in an hour glass
Just like you did with my trust
It slipped right through your phantom fingers

How did I ever think you were real?
I should have known those whispered words were nothing but wasted air and time
I could have sung songs of whispered broken hearts instead of listening to the nothing that is you
So from now on I will sing of phantoms, phantoms like you
The ones that use souls up and tell lies and break people's trust
*I wish I knew just what you were from the start
But how could I when I was blind from seeing right through you from the heart?

She is a clear vibration of a violin string tight with tension, shivering in song, singing in pain.

She is a dustmote dancing in the dusk sparkling in dullness, joyful even at the end.

She is the warmth of an old flannel blanket passed down through generations until it's softer than a kiss.

She is the shine of a lucky penny in your pocket.

She is the cool of a breeze in summer sweat.

She is class.
She is kindness.

She is the Singing One.
She is my friend.

I am in,
when i am busy doing ;
I am in,
when i am singing;
I am in,
when i am dancing;
I am in,
when i am writing;
I am in,
when I engrossed in watching nature;
I am in,
when i look into the nourishing moon at night;
I am in,
when I see the morning red rising sun;
I am in,
when I  care to bring smile on the face of needy;
BUT
I am out,
when my mind  goes negative ;
I am out,
when terror strike  my mind ...

Let me tell you the story of how I fell in love with all the little things you do.  Let me tell you how it started the night of our first car date, when you wouldn’t let me walk in the rain.  Let me tell you how grumpy I get without breakfast, and how you know that, so you’ll stop to buy me something if you know I went to work without any.  Let me also tell you how much it means when you cook me breakfast, and I get out of the shower and it’s done and waiting for me.  And let me tell you about when you tried so hard to make the magic toast your mom makes that I love, and you failed utterly, but how cute it was when I pictured your mom giving you that cooking lesson.  Let me tell you about your “good morning beautiful” texts and how I wait all morning for them, and they make me smile instantly every single time.  Let me also tell you about your support, and how much it means to have someone special always there cheering for me and my dreams, even when I’m not quite sure exactly what they are.  Let me tell you about how I hate both doing dishes and seeing them pile up, and when you did them for me that one morning I was so grateful.  And let me tell you how much I liked walking into the kitchen and seeing you there at the counter, because I got a glimpse of our future.  Let me tell you about the time you ran me a bubble bath and lit candles all around it and sat with me while I relaxed.  And let me tell you about the morning I left, thinking you were close behind me, but you stayed to hide little notes all over my house.  And let me tell you about finding those notes for a freaking month, and how each one made me smile and light up, a welcome reminder of your love.  Let me tell you about you washing my laundry on your day off, doing my chores when you should have been relaxing.  Let me also tell you, I’m not much of a flower-loving girl, but the evening I left work to find my favorite flowers sitting in my car was such a sweet surprise.  And let me tell you about when you dip me low and kiss me deeply, and how I’m kind of scared of falling but ****, is it romantic.  Let me tell you how I never know how to react when you start singing gushy songs to me because all I can do is blush-but baby, please don’t ever stop.  And let me tell you about the times I was oh so very sad and you put on music, took my hand, and slow danced with me until all I could possibly feel was loved.  Let me tell you how some of my favorite moments are in the car because you rest your hand gently on my leg as you drive.  And let me tell you about how I feel when we’re lying in bed wrapped around one another, legs like pretzels, and just as I’m drifting off I feel you caress my face, smooth my hair, and kiss me gently.  Let me tell you, I could go one forever about the little things you do, because I fall in love with you more every single day, with every little thing you do.