I want to be the kind of guy who says what he means.
The kind of guy who sends the letter even if it’s on fire.
The kind of guy who can
But I have no boundaries
Only a path
A path with poison oak to remind me of the feet that wander this lonely cell.
These feet are the only feet
The only feet that will carry my stupidity, my insanity, my vengeance.
But these hands
They guide me against the world and show me new realities.
Through penta moon worlds, I fly.
Because sorrow always comes with a bag of chips.