Monday, May 28, 2012

Not sure what it's called yet

Tuck yourself into bed and hope it’s better tomorrow
April rain is the sweetest form of sorrow
You can be anything you want, little girl
That is what we are taught, so we expect the world
Drown me in your words and tell me when
Sing a lullaby and wait for it to happen again
Dive under the water and be at peace
All the time denying that you ever had this weakness
Drown me in your words and tell me when
Sing a lullaby and wait for it to happen again
Ribs like a birdcage, heart of a dove
Sculpted by an artist with a fear of love
I will take a chisel to my body and scrape away
Try to make myself into something you could chase
I will paint a thousand different patterns all over my face
Try to compensate for all the moments I have wasted
Drown me in your words and tell me when
Sing a lullaby and wait for it to happen again
Dive under the water and be at peace
All the time denying that you ever had this weakness

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