Here I present to you my everything
It’s not much I know
It’s all I have…
Well not really
I have these bullets
And I have these holes
I may have something sitting in my heart that weighs me down resembling the ash of coals
That’s not important because you have the diamonds
And you have seen the flowers in the garden of my soul
But you haven’t been pricked by the thorns

Here I present to you an image of me
Polished and pure; happy
Well not really…
I have these scars your eyes have not seen
And my light is bright
But you’ve not yet been burned
There’s an ocean of passion inside of me
Sometimes I drown in the waves
You’ve only seen me swim

Here I present to you the truth
Glass is less fragile than my love
And my body is made up of words like ink upon my skin

I’m difficult to take like a strong drink.

 

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