I\'ve heard self-destruction\'s for cowards
I dried my tears with towels
Nobody knows what words devours
Up and down, left-right, empowered and downers.
So I stabbed my chest and planted a seedling
Cultured it that there doesn\'t has to be such panic in bleeding
Literated all about feelings and healing
That even when distressed, I\'d let it not, get misleaded.
Stabbed the edges, to ooze out every drop of twilight
Not to teach it fear of darkness, but to love it when it goes by the name of \'the night\'
Told it, that the moon is dark and yet, it\'s surrounded by white light
That if it\'s ever to need it in dark times, don\'t waver, cause it\'ll always be on my sight.
And from within the cut, grew out the reddest rose
From one of the petals, there hung a prose
\"Though was I enclosed, I felt the wind as it blows,
And now witness the glow, that your tears expose\".
Heartache no longer resides me, but inhabits somewhere, not quite dead
It lingers in the rainy days and when lonely, in my still sometimes sour breath
The dagger in my bosom, was never quite the threat
For it planted the seed within it, where it now has grown, a flowerbed.