To all the pretty things I tried to say,
I’m sorry that I didn’t let you go free,
But closed my mouth at the last second,
Afraid of how people would judge me.
I’m sorry I didn’t let you come out,
In a flow of independence and rebellion,
Because for all my ranting about quiet people,
I’ve seemingly become one.
I let others views influence mine,
Until I put away all my own thoughts,
And was too scared to speak my mind,
Twisting my fingers into knots.
I sucked in all I thought I was,
And made myself paper thin,
But now I vow to all my pretty words,
I will never let it happen again.
I was broken and bruised,
Feeling thin enough to crumble at touch,
All because I clamped my mouth shut,
Over pretty words because I cared too much.
But when I let my words go free,
I hope I’ve started a rebellion and a war,
With all the quiet people with pretty words,
Not holding them in anymore.