oh my, little bird your feathers are dripping red all over the rug.
Never forget who you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.
You with your black hair, split-to-bits and too tangled for my silver combs.
Never forget who you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.
I wonder if people felt the freedom in our culture to love louder, if they'd be quicker to say "I miss you" when the absence of someone is felt instead of just thinking it. — soundofmind
