Here I stand,
A jester of different kingdoms
I'll be best to cut off my own ears,
and seek my own wisdom
He tells me the past is the past,
there's no looking back
But what I feel is much different,
Maybe I'd be best to pack
Yet, leaving for the unknown,
would promise me certain exile
Exile from my family,
but would it be worth the while?
To seek the new king of my life,
but of the kingdom I once called home
Here I stand, should I walk on?
Can I juggle the unknown?
I see my king cry as I leave these castle steps..
oh, how he changed the laws for me!
Can I cut of my own ears? My hands? My tongue?
My heart is juggled by a guillotine

Here I am, dancing in the wind
I've got this mental journal in my head
it's filled with lines of sonnets and verse
The only thing I love to write about
is time being turned in reverse
Creativity is like a jungle cat
She comes and goes as she may please
and well, that is that
Creativity is a near ghoul in my mind
she disappears, comes and goes,
lately she hasn't been so kind
Because Creativity is a relentless ghost, she is
She creates and destroys,
envies, and produces
She tosses and turns,
her results are invisibly inconclusive
because she is so fluid-like
She seldomly hides
or at least to others
I call her name,
it's just her game
"Red Rover, Red Rover!" I call to her,
"C'mon, come out, Creativity!"
But during the day she always sleeps
And at night,
well at night,
she plays.

Looking at pictures,
stuck in time..
A virtual world,
when the world was mine
Responsibilities change,
people do too
Roles bend and break,
and priorities bloom
Why do I put myself in a timeline,
of structure and concrete?
Since when was my happiness the last errand to complete?
Still, I go..
to juggle what fragile time I have
between the people that matter most to me
Balance work, love, friends, my own time and family
I just want to know that what ever decisions I choose..
that the sacrifices I give to be happy...
aren't the people I'd feel great agony to lose.

You may see a hat,
but you don't see the bruises underneath
You may see a smile,
yet you don't see the scars on my inside cheek
I've had a habit of biting my tongue
I blame it on being too young,
and I don't know what anything really is

Everyday is a wake up call
Everything I say is another way to fall
Everything, everywhere, everyone..
I'm so envious of that word "every".

"Just smile!" He told me.... "You're pretty", He tells me..
So I smile, and accept the fact that he'll never know the real me..
Hold your tongue, hold your breath,
make yourself believe that you love him to death
Bite my tongue, clench my teeth...
After all, it's just a little blood on my inside cheek.

My mind is stuck in this middle ground
it's stuck in a fragment of wasted time
Digestible, but still too big for this tiny heart of mine
They tell me I've got a big heart, bright and warm it is..
but my secret life is my private life and it's not for the public
because I...
never know when I'll do something stupid
I never know when I'll change my mind
if happiness is worth all this confusion,
then I don't want him to be mine
if family is stronger than gold
if blood is always thicker than water
then I don't want to be my next victim,
I don't want to be Love's daughter

Yet I know I'm always going to want him
his style, his smile, it's worth every penny of throwing everything away
His soul and his mind make me crave everything
everything he has..
Yet here I am, just a caged bird,
I sing the only song that only my captor holds
He spoils me, with everything he has
except the rolling green hills and the blue skies that Juden has

And if all this confusion is worth all this pain,
I don't want to be blamed for being the cause of this game
I only want to hear Juden's laughter
even if it means I'm not Love's daughter

I hate this.
This constant wandering, like jumping over sides
but the only steps I'm moving are the feet in my mind
Asking, "Am I happy?", "Is this what, WHO, I want to BE?"
Then I remember, at least I'm always going to be me..
Who you're with, does that defy you?
Does your individualism go away?
Sacrifices are necessary,
but will they remember me or my name?
I'm artistic, poetic, I crave ink on paper and metaphoric songs in the sun
I am not some princess, or that "country girl" who can always use a gun
I may laugh and follow you through this life, us..as a team,
but darling, my rifle is my paintbrush..my canvas, my trophy.

You see me the way I am,
soft skin and unclothed
I may be imperfect but the lacy silks give me a better glow
I see you the way you are,
bare skin and muscles toned
Under these sheets of sorrow
we often forget who fell.. in love. with. who..... first.

After what we just did I can't feel anything but my heartbeat
You lay your head on my chest and I'm brushing your cheek
Your hair is entangled on my lips, are those scratches on your back?
You looked like you hugged a lion, sorry dear, I never meant to do that..

But when it comes down to being naked,
it's not only about taking off clothes
It's looking into each other's eyes
and seeing our own breathing, ticking souls..
well..
Looking into your soul is like looking at a cameo
dancing on a chain in my hand,
The silhouette then dances on a pendant,
beautiful and illusive,
shadowy transcendence..

Just hold me like a fragile cameo
I hope you learn more about me
by looking into my eyes than what these sheets say,
they often can tell lies
Just imagine us in a fragile cameo
Silhouettes of people, in love but never seen or known
Just a cameo.