Between this journey from birth to death do we need a
witness? A scribe to
write down the endless thoughts and hidden emotions we
contain? And then a translator to hold them up to our
face and say "here it is. here is what you
think. here is what you are." That is what you make of
me? Well I feel the
weight of your words but you'll feel the razors of
mine.

My soul reborn in whose image?

Give me one reason...any reason....to loathe you. I've
known you my whole
life. I feel like i am you. I am your witness inherent
around you. I act as
your weakness, your strength, your scribe.

Our souls reborn in one image.

Can you breathe now? I breathe you. Can you breathe you?
(i'd give my life to sever all ties)

Listen...can't you hear our pain? can't i free these
demons from inside you?
I know they've threatened and shamed you, but won't
you trust me and let me show you my way? again and
again and again time has stolen our lives. I will not
bow down to your words of confusion for i know them as
just that....the words of the denied. Are you
listening? If you are tell me what i'm saying for i
need to know i haven't made this up. I realize that
you've never
shared that laughter before but you will laugh again
and so will i...and so
will i.

And I looked at you as your blood ran in lines down
me. And from that point on every thing was clear to
me. Your essence was honest and beautiful....I felt
numb but set free. And from that point on every thing
was clear.....