You were tired and quiet You were shy and lonely You were tearful and pained You were,...
Well, you were a mess.
I was unhelpful and deaf I was incapable and lazy I was ignorant and blunt I was,..
Well, I wasn't there when you needed someone
But I am here now Like the Sun when the flowers are ready to bloom once more during the Spring, I will be there everyday Regardless of the weather or the clouds Regardless of people and trivial matters I will be there, And if you are wondering "where:" I'll be here, right in the centre of the elementary school playground where we'd chase each other for the top secret information regarding our middle names And when you get there You don't have to say anything I got you
distant and unattached
But I'm not shirking you away this time, I'll be there, and I'll say what I've always wanted to:
It's all too typical for your meaning to be guarded Or your heart to be hidden within your ribs with a thousands tiny soldiers waiting for an intruder And when there is one, they'll scatter Just to release a dragon upon the poor soul that has wandered upon the wrong heart
But when your tongue moves in time And you lay your words Like a child's hand upon the stove the second time 'round What comes out isn't what sits cozy and idle in your skull The bottle of your message is made of the toughest glass And the cork is quite stuck, I'd have better luck with a pickle jar
I wish you wouldn't be so afraid I wish when you saw me you wouldn't see a troll with sharp teeth and claws made for ruin I wish you'd tell me what you were thinking without thinking I would think something horrible
Most of all I wish I could hold you Just hold you and not speak Because who the hell needed words anyway We'll read each other's eyes and smiles and decipher every twitch in our faces and just cry and laugh and scream and smile And feel, Just feel No need for thoughts, Just each other
Artist Being an artist makes me a genius with a handful of graphite And a pocket purse of pencils I got a backpack full of erasers 'cause I make a damn lot of mistakes My shading stick turned into a blunt because I lost my muse
And as an artist, I understand some people don't But I can vibe with those who do And we'll pass the paint and have a huff Because we're all good buds and we're up for some fun
But as an artist I love all I create My very first watercolour, My not very good portrait, The dents in my erasers, The garden and mango tree out back, The love I'll always have for her
And as an artist, I am the Atlas to what I love, The Jove to all I synthesize, The caretaker of broken bits and pieces, And the richest of them all if we, all of us who understand, are together