“But what you don’t know is I’m a prisoner of my own poetry. These words that you read in awe are the shekels and chains that I am bound to. I am captive of unspoken words and unforgotten memories. 

And if you think I’m free, you’ve never had your heart broken and been unable to cry, so you just sit there, feeling every piece of your existence fall apart. 

The frustration of being on fire,  but not burning, of dying with no final death. 

But even with all this madness and pain, I wouldn’t want it any other way.  I wear my scars like makeup. Yes they may not be pretty, but they made me, me. 

And if you didn’t know,  Im Magic “

//Excerpt from “Breathe For Me”