Never stop

I had a dream, that was on the way to drop off my daughter to her mother. On the way to the car, I set Carly down. When I opened the door, she took off. I dropped my things and chased after her. As she ran away, I noticed she started to grow. I followed and ran and chased. She continued to grow. Her pants got smaller. Her shoes tighter. Her coat, which was below her knees was now at her waste. Her hair was past the middle of her back. She was so tall. I had a dream, by the time I caught up with her. She had no idea who I was.

Let it, pour. Define it.

I need it to rain, for me.
It's how I feel, raw, all the time up underneath.
Wanting, wishing, holding on to that feeling.
Chest constricting, shoulders forward, kneeling.
No prayers, nothing answers the call.
No layers, no, there's nothing there at all.

I need it to rain, for me.
Watch it down pour, live, as I hear your resentment from across the hall.
Foot steps loud, like knives. Imagining the floor, watching my body fall.
Heart wrenched, I'm grasping for air. Face wet, chest cold. I crawl.
Inside myself, where I thought there was safety.
All I find, is the history of reality that made me.

I need it to rain, for me.
Watch it all fall out. get crushed.
Watch myself sit on the couch and spill my guts.
I find my self asking all the time, well just what?
I read books, to stop this motivation.
I can't stop these thoughts of inflation.

I need it to rain for me.
I'm in a better place of understanding.
When does it get better, when will it stop being so demanding.
If I only knew how much of you was left standing.
Then again, maybe I just never understood why you were so commanding.

I need it to rain, for me.
Met with opposition, clasped hands and desperation.
You feed me your insecurities, like a deposition.
When I questions your reality, you can't answer the whole picture, all I'm asking for is the definition.
You've never been able to define what it is you're looking for.
So you blame and resent me for everything your not, already are.

I need it to rain for me.

Who am I?

Who am I and why is that so hard to answer?
To some, I am a brother, a son, a father and a husband.
Who am I and why is that so hard to answer?
To me, I am
How do I answer this ?
To me, I am a poet, a song writer, an artist.
To me, I am an adventurer, a leader, a fighter,
To me, I am who I'm aspired to be.
I've been so focused on surviving these last few years, that I've forgotten what it was like to be me.
Hiding parts of me I'm afraid others wont like.
Saving the best parts of me for myself has lead me to feel lonely and closed off.
I miss feeling free, I miss feeling good.
Life has it's highs and lows.
I need to remember that.