Do you see me now?

I’m a fraction of my words.

I speak with my pen, don’t think my circumstances degraded this;

            Because still I stand.

            Only at sixteen did I lose my sanity.

The death of a queen took every breath in me;

            But still I stand.

            Though her presence was grand I still convey pain.

How could one know dark days without ever seeing rain;

            The tears from my eyes.

            Still I’m here with the strength under the sky.

Being strong for my seeds…

The nutrients for them to blossom and succeed.

            My skin bleeds ink…

It’s a story being told of the life I lived and the troubles I hold.

            The sins I committed.

            The lessons I’ve learned, and no I don’t regret…

But my wounds still burn.