Story that I tell...will always be incomplete!

How do I let you walk on my lawn
Would you only appreciate the sweet scent of flowers

Won't you see the crown of thorns, Though
My story lies not in the colors your inquisitive eyes see,

I feel I am betraying more than I can bear

Let you peep through a page of my book,
Sacred, what if only in my heart
Those delicate pages, are they not
The folding leaflets of a touch-me-not, Your soft hands,
Wont they leave behind finger prints

So I tell you only the highlights of my story
Letting you take the highways
while I guard my dirt filled country roads
A story lies in its minute details, So I bury my story
Away from all the archaeological excavations
Your interviewing eyes can dig.

It’s just a different morning

It’s getting to my head
I ain’t drunk, but I feel everything is blurred
Is it against the law to close your eyes
while driving on the Highway?

I might have missed the exit
But I have started to love the ride
Destination doesn’t matter no more
I hope I have taken the wrong turn

I have started to have fun while I climb
I ain’t scared of falling again, I await the fall
I feel like walking the country roads
I feel like swimming across the dirty streams

I feel like doing something wrong
I feel like doing something silly, naughty, little rebellious
I feel like just being me
Yeah…I don’t feel like myself, no longer!