It Was Like When You

There Was Something Striking About A Single Key. It Was Like A Question Waiting To Be Answered, A Whole Missing A Half. Useless On Its Own, Needing Something Else To Be Truly Defined.

Your Actions Is Like A Raindrop; It Falls Into The Pond Making Ripples And Then Its Over.

The Bottom Line Is, What Defines You Isn't How Many Times You Crash, But The Number Of Times You Get Back On The Bike. As Long As It's One More. You're All Good.

I Was So Scared About Being Discovered, But Nobody Came. Nobody Heard. In My Own Ears, Though, My Sobs Sounded Primal And Scary, Like Something I Would Have Turned Off If I'd Been Able To.

When I Pictured Myself, It Was Always Like Just An Outline In A Colouring Book, With The Inside Not Yet Completed.