Someone asked me what inspires me to write, to sing, to make lyrical art,
And I realized that most often it’s the heavy things
Amidst the darkness when I’m scrambling to find my way,
Digging deep for any inspiration I can uncover in my psyche,
As my own words become a light to guide my path.
Other times, it’s the incredible experiences,
When I’m high on the goodness of life,
When I can’t not speak of it
As the words seep onto the pages
(otherwise I’ll explode!)
But then, there is you,
Somewhere amidst the highs and lows
And I’m speechless, there
In the place where I try to find the words,
Attempt to make them drip onto to this page before me,
From my heart, from my soul, with this pen
But these feelings, oh these feelings —
Language just won’t do