Momma says to be honest with these
Says all your prayers should be that way
Well I've been burning myself to see the sun
Hoping that the sun will come one day
That one day I will be stained glass
Colors will burst from my insides
And we can call that day sunday
My prayers will be honest than
To the God that forgot our names
to remember only his own
And when that God cries forgiveness
I'll take back the times I cursed his name
For the way he snatched those I loved
right out from between my arms
When that day comes
I will pray more honest like

All these pent up frustrations,
Banging on my insides,
Playing their anthems on my bones,
Waving a flag for news of the fallen,
Take back my morals,
Return me to my bed,
I'd trade my soul for pocket change,
Sick of the tongues knotted in nooses,
Tired of the silence used and useless,
These pens done gone and run out on me,
Dried themselves of all that is left,
So slit my wrists and write with blood,
Because that's all this really is anyways

When the heavens open up
And the rivers sings loud,
I hope you make instruments of trees
Hold steady by my side darling
Take away these night aches
Swing your hips beside mine
Move your body to the light of the moon

Slow and steady wins the race
so please be patient with my heart,
I'm back to notebooks filled up past
the brim with simple love poems
and an empty bed to preach them to,
She has done and filled me up,
Put light back in my smile and
remembered that blue is my favorite color.
So even with hearts beating fast
playing kickball inside my ribcage,
I will walk slow, remember that
slow and steady will win the race,
So hold my heart, and teach it patience

We who at funerals tend to weep,
We who stay close to grave digger's feet
Hoping that our time will come sooner,
That the bruises will be black and bluer that the last,
Replaying all the memories from the past,
Because I know that I am looking
for a new bed to lie in,
A new heart to confide in,
A new body to die in,
Cause this one's got nothing left,
So clip these wings and shackle my feet,
Sink me twelve meters deep,
Fill the insides with the ocean,
and let this slumber set softly

The brook keeps babbling away,
Telling the stones to hold their tongues,
The water to slow down for a bit,
For these days are long
and the nights feel ever so empty,
Daisies have craned their necks over the sides
Hoping to befriend whatever breathes below,
And the brook babbles away,
Telling all the secrets that sailed its spine,
As they pass by the banks
And wave goodbye to those still standing

Everything from this afternoon
1. I do believe that moths are just distracted butterflies
2. Butterflies may also be distracted but in a way others find acceptable
3. Have you ever wondered why stop signs are red?
4. Between all these thoughts, your face and name remain somewhere infused in them.
5. There are so many waves in an ocean, some that swell and break. One day, I hope to count them all.
6. My father taught me always to listen to understand, not to reply.
7. These eyes float full and heavy, I Pray the rain holds off just a little while longer. Enough to embrace you one last time.
8. I wrote this list, everything that was worth writing down. I've been trying to give it to you with hope that you will read it sometime.
9. If you're reading this I hope you see it was never really a list, just trying to tiptoe around the fear of losing you. Honestly, it is the only thing on my mind.