my beautiful soul has sat herself upright in a summer drive.
she knows where she's been but not where she'll go
is she just my ego? if she isn't does she even know..
what she does, how she makes you feel, asked too many
times. "Are you real?" the wrong perception is thrown
around in a constant spinning cycle of manipulation.
those who do not understand me, they spin it.
damn you and your present essence, damn you and your painted sentence.
thats all i hear when shallow insults are thrown near.
my name is danielle in this reality, but who cares about my name if you
know whats underneath me?
cut through the layers of paint and paper.
you will find a child in my very center,
she laughs and grooves with her octaves and vocals
she invites all in to be loved, and attempts to be noble.
a very good friend, to love you she need not pretend.
nice, damn u and your painted sentence...
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