Third now
Times I chased shirtless New habit O me of little faith It was worth it A knife turned dull but not my tongue Cutting like a sword but never cutting off Messiah I can’t have back but I have love Stuck in the present past A watch objects I love Blue heart so much loss This year never ended In all truth scars and my face has worn heavy weights Even in rape I felt more naive Now I am tough but close to withering Tally marks have become shrieks It’s difficult to age gracefully It is November and I am tired of growing resilient to love. Tyler is a different story I believe third times the time I lost childhood passion Even a dog can say ruff But my tongue can hurt but no gold spindles untouched I pray that faith will meet me - an artist never stops - the fire burns forever even when wet by the loss of innocence Why do they call it growing up
