I always said communication is key
But ironically I made it difficult to talk to me
I grew up with a father that screamed to get his point across
Guttural and bitter to force out his thoughts
Out of love he said, which left my perception blurred
Me and a mother who argued to have her opinions heard
We all adapt in different ways
Yet day by day the pattern was the same
Some sort of friction, always someone stoking the flame
To fit in I grew a voice like a match... lit, ready to burn it all away
Communication is key I’ve come to learn
Yet my voice became a fire, one that burned
Communication is key and I never learned how to communicate
I’m learning now, I just hope it's not too late.