I am not that sort of beautiful–
putting kinks in necks and shuffling feet as I pass.
I am not that kind of girl.
The girl that loves to laugh with the others and run about in smiling groups.
I am not the sort of person you find shining in the light.
I run about in the night and I understand the darkness.
The moon is my pal and the stars give me sight.
I write for you in loud rooms and hide my words in shadowed eyes.
I prefer the lonely.
If you’ve been there, you do too.
The path of those who wander are rarely broken through.
But if you happen to find me on cold nights or in the rain, I would walk with you forever more if you know the song of pain.