'Like' is not a light word

My eyes don’t see the same world yours do, honey

There’s no such thing as black and white in my town

For me things aren’t so mercifully clear

You don’t get it do you... 

that I am a poet

Us poets take things tragically hard 

All the sadness in the world is on my bony shoulders

I’m bending, breaking, wounded, bruised, and scarred (spit)

The sooner that you come to realize

I’m a poet

The better it will be for you, meu amor

Then you’ll know the reasons why I suffer

And my dark days you’ll be less impatient of

You’ll never understand (hopefully)

you’re not a poet, mas eu adoro você.

You’ll never feel the fury that I’ve felt

Instead of being happy that you want me

I’m angry you once wanted someone else

I didn’t ask for this affliction (but I like the exclusiveness)

As a poet, que vê

I feel the words your hands can’t as well say

The fact that you’ve known bodies long before mine

Steals my thunder and my joy away

Don’t forget dear,

that I am a poet, um poeta

I could slaughter you with words like razor blades

But I will hold my anguish all inside me

And write it down some other rainy day.