I'm not sure I'd call it fun for it often has me undone but I'm a writer
I could bite off my own tongue and still my silence would be sung through pen and paper
1000 stories in my mind if I could only find the time to speak my truth
This is not a simple ryhme listen as it takes hold, blossoms and explodes
This is my proof
But my words come tumbling out
spilling jumbled from my mouth in perfect chaos
I sift through the disorder
As I struggle against the borders that contain me
One day I'll find the words to explain how I see

Lost in their own message hidden among the wreckage is the importance of all the lies unknown to you

My mind interrupts my day whenever it has something to say and I can't fight it