I Make A Good Living Doing What

Don't Tell Me You're Not Beautiful. You're The Kind Of Beautiful The Blind Would See If We Could Figure Out Some Way To Give Them Three Seconds Of Sight.

I Was Never Meant To Be This Thing.

I've Been Shot Down So Many Times, I Get Altitude Sickness Just From Standing Up For Myself.

I'm Not The Only Kid Who Grew Up This Way, Surrounded By People Who Used To Say That Rhyme About Sticks And Stones, As If Broken Bones Hurt More Than The Names We Got Called, And We Got Called Them All. So We Grew Up Believing No One Would Ever Fall In Love With Us, That We'd Be Lonely Forever, That We'd Never Meet Someone To Make Us Feel Like The Sun Was Something They Built For Us In Their Toolshed. So Broken Heartstrings Bled The Blues, And We Tried To Empty Ourselves So We'd Feel Nothing. Don't Tell Me That Hurts Less Than A Broken Bone...

I Sit Before Flowers 
hoping They Will Train Me In The Art 
of Opening Up