A quiet getaway for two, a co(a)st,
Yeah, but how about, we skip the other?
And, if you "love", why don't I let you roast
With the other marshmallows, and wither
In your blissful lack, blind lust, busy life
Of red velvet and dollars? In my chair,
All the "love" I need to know is the strife
Of strings and sticks and synth and sliding air;
Give me Skull Candy, and my own fiddle,
Give me my view across the painted sky,
Give me my freedom to be a riddle,
Give me the chance to dance and still defy.
I'm not your pretty girl, nor femme fatale,
And if you fall, know you will really fall.

Not how I planned it
Not as I'd hoped
But better

Not the path we'd plotted
Not the course we charted
But higher

Not the story I'd written
Not the song I'd practiced
But oh,
it's been well told and well sung
and I've spent time with my Messiah.

He's given me another path.
A different gift.

I will never have a utility
Never sit pretty on a shelf
Never have a use
For somebody else

I will never be advertised
On a bright flashy sign
Saying hey here, look dear
Don’t she look divine

I will never be sold
I will never be bought
And as long as I live I’ll never be caught

For there’s no hunter for a catch like me
And there are plenty a pretty fish in the sea

A single act of violence
A single act of kindness
A single act of love
Can make all the difference
When push comes to shove

I want to feel known. I want to bring someone home and tell them about how my brother and I used to live in elaborate mansions in the trees.

I want to drive them around my home town and tell them of all the places I got heartbroken and all the places I ran to hide and all the places I smiled at the sun believing I could never go blind.

I want to tell them of all the friends I've had and how I miss some and am scared of others, to tell them of how theyve grown while helping me grow too.

I want to show them the home I grew up in and how I thought it was the best place in the world, surviving tornados, fires, and sadness but we lost it to the lawless.

I want to show them my birthmarks and all the constellations and myths my grandmother wrote about the stars on my skin.

I want someone to know every curve of the letters in my name. To be able to hear me in my quiet, see me in my dark, hold me in my cold, and love me in my despair.