Fuck it. Make me the bad guy. I'll take it. Every fucking ounce. Forget what I said, forget what I meant. Hoist it onto my shoulders; I got this.
I become stronger in response to what I have to carry. I always rise to the occasion. Stab me, shoot at me, blow me up. Choke me, punch me, beat me the fuck down. Break my ribs and bruise my soul. I'm gonna be here. I might bleed on your carpet (sorry Finch) and I might be fall-down drunk (sorry Finch plus everyone I know...) but I'll be alive.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment