Watching the Clouds

watching the clouds
i am thinking of you
of how you kiss me
how you touch me
and how you make me feel
watching the clouds
i am happy that your mine
mine to hold near
mine to kiss goodnight
and mine to love
watching the clouds
i am forever grateful of how you love me
how you accept me
and how you changed me
watching the clouds
i give my heart to you
to hold dearly
or shatter
watching the clouds i am yours

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Step Aside

im living life in a way i never thought i could
and i have a hope now that i thought i never would
im reaching farther now than you would even believe
so listen to my words now cause they will let you see
i have been there and done that and now i am set free
my life has led me to where i stand
and the path i chose crumbled like quicksand
but i am who i am and you cant change that

you say that you know me but you dont know shit
you cant say you understand utill youve been through it
so take me as i am or step aside
because i have greater things on my mind
dont judge me till you know me
cause i am not as i appear to be

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stories

Stories, like people and butterflies andsongbirds’ eggs and human hearts and dreams, are also fragile things, made up of nothing stronger ormore lasting than twenty-six letters and a handful of punctuation marks. Or they are words on theair,composed ofsoundsand ideas—abstract, invisible, gone once they’ve been spoken—and what could be more frail than that? But some stories, small simple ones about setting out on adventures or people doing wonders, tales of miracles and monsters, have outlasted all the people who told them, and some of them have outlasted the lands in which they were created.” ~Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things

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