The Fighter
I’m late nights and messy hair.
Long walks to n o w h e r e
Sailing ships on empty seas.
A light house for the lonely.
Ink stains on forgotten paper.
Lost, but not erased.
The last song in the Jukebox.
A relic, misplaced.
The chorus to his favorite song.
“Don’t you remember the words?”
Wide eyed, hiding behind bright lipstick
“Didn’t they tell you not to believe everything you’ve heard?”
“Don’t let them see how you feel.” They said
But these feelings are too real,
"Just sit down at this keyboard and write." They said.
But it's not as easy as that.
My words, they fight and scratch and bleed and beg to be heard,
Locked up in the back of my mind
I left the key with my heart
Who, after all those 3 AM beatings, is reluctant to give things away.
But it’s time the world knew what it was really getting into.
Bold. LOUD. Funny and smart.
Daring. Beautiful. Curious. Caring.
Angry. Hurting. Alive.
It’s taken me a long time to finally sit down and discover this.
Discover that my thoughts and words are worth hearing
I say and do what I want, because once upon a time, someone wouldn’t let me,
&I’ll never chose to be caged again.