My Heart Is A Protest That I

Don't Let Your Luggage Define Your Travels, Each Life Unravels Differently.

My Heart Is A Protest That I Let Rally Against My Ribs.

Don't Tell Me You're Not Beautiful. You're The Kind Of Beautiful The Blind Would See If We Could Figure Out Some Way To Give Them Three Seconds Of Sight.

We're All Shipwrecked On This Idea That Everything Has To Be Explained.

A Question Like “do You Love Me?” Was An Itch Our Doctors Told Us Not To Scratch.