Calm down and take a deep breath to heal that shaky hand. Grab an ink pen off the table top, as a teary eyed abandoned thought gives
the marching orders to cross over the next hill of frost worn goosebumps on my skin. As an army of chills keeps pushing forward, and
and writes these letters to nowhere. So just give me some good news, for once that I can physically hold and hang onto. While the shadows
are dancing around the flames of a lesser man than me. With all the same insecurities, and forced thoughts of what you're told to believe.
It doesn't always read clearly. So look close and make sure that you're free. Make sure that you're free. Slipping and sliding on ice, and
catching red off the tail lights. Under the bridge where the wreckage happened. Digging my self out of gravel and death again. Our bodies
are bruised and broken, but our souls still want to sing out when we're pushed down.