I write on my heart the wrong address and sadness still finds me.

Vacant.

Lonely I was born and lonely I go—with no savior.

But there is one. I can feel it.

I’ve tried finding my own route to take, and only find the steps of those before me—all too large and misshapen.

I hate this world of records and set levels. The field is wide but cut close to the ground.

One day I hope the world will shake us off. One day I know it will.

I hold these hopes loosely so I’m not disappointed if they drop.

Sometimes the very words I feared speaking were the very ones to make this pain stop—the very thing to make you see my need for freedom.

No one should have to pay dues to share what’s in their heart. No one could say it better.

The eyes of your soul are clearer than most—cleaner than mine.

So rise up and leave your pain in the past.

There is no future in history.