I told that when I came out of my mother's womb I was singing.
I was told that I whenever I talk I speak as if I'm telling a story.
When I tried out for every solo in middle school and never got it.
Notice: That never stopped me from singing.
When my best friend ignored my words of wisdom, or told me she didn't get it.
Notice: That never stopped me from writing.
Those plenty of times I've sprained my ankle or was too weak to run another mile.
Notice: It never stopped me from running.
I'm stubborn and that could be a good thing and a bad thing.
I was told by my own family "Shut up, no one cares."
Notice: That didn't stop me from having a voice.
I was afraid to go outside because I was afraid I'd need an ambulance.
Notice: I still went outside.
See when I was a baby I never tried new things.
I didn't take risks.
But I was told that when I came out of my mother's womb I was singing.
Singing to the heavens, singing to the sky, singing all the angel's goodbye.
Notice: Nothing has ever stopped me from believing in myself.

"You don't play fair."
"I know I don't.
Neither does life. Or death.
Or anything that's beyond it or was before it."

She was just another tragedy
that everybody stayed away from
yet everybody loved to read.

She stood in the middle of the courtyard
Her arms outstretched, embracing life,
What little she knew of it.
In the rain, she let her bonds fall to the ground,
This sense of freedom, if only for a moment,
She wanted it to be her own.
That brief time, between fearing and dreaming,
She let herself loose.
As the rain washed the blood and the mud,
Her soul needed the cleansing, she thought.
For the first time in years, she chose not to look for scars,
She forgot the pain.
In this big house, she was a prisoner.
Prisoner of rites and beliefs,
Of men and patriarchy.
And only when the rains came to visit,
Did she forget the cruelty and the evil.
Only then, did she believe of balance and equilibrium,
Only then, did she wish for rights and freedom.
In her dreams she saw a much better world,
Outside these four walls.
And in those dreams,
She wasn't a prisoner of fate or creed,
She was a woman of no fears.

there is beauty in a storm
(i promise to keep you warm).
darling, there is beauty in death
what are you so scared of ?