my son is really growing up
his speech is broken and funny
it's remarkable how much love can fit inside my skin
i'm forced to put him to bed and push on my way
to tell stories
in blood and ink
fairy-tales that only run skin deep
hopefully he sees my duty to these lost souls
begging for new beginnings
begging for closure or for love to last
just this once....
I am only an instrument of emotion
a slave
but this is my role regardless
time falls with a crash all around me
my friends are no where to be seen
and i refuse to admit love
her brown hair tickling my face
it's only a matter of time
wrecked time without insurance
i can't give what i don't have
but i move on because my son shines from inside me
and fills me with inspiration
so i can lead the broken
the weary
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