My patience wore me down, thin to the bone, bare as the surface never could be, I had to dig deeper. Through the flesh of all I never could see, my temper always got the best of me. And these well articulated plans never made it beyond the hypothesis constantly picking my brain with rough drafts that stay rough. Never smooth enough to perfect a final copy worthy of being seen, so it goes in the trash can of all things unnoticed. Stays clean in the unseen of my own eyes so my hands don’t have to feel the way dirty feels exposed. And I feel unclothed, birthed in the shame that comes after being stripped raw; cover me. Blanket me with something, anything at all other than the dull pain of how my spine broke through the flesh of who I never wanted to be. No take backs! So I perfected the demons while looking into the eyes of the wrong ones and I can’t undo the mess that cripples me. Well, serves you right. How does it taste? You can’t spit out the bitter medicine you fed yourself, can’t purge out the poison from your own hands. You have to keep it, lay down, roll around in it, make a home of it. Because you asked for it. Now you want to be ungrateful? Bullshit. And who’s gonna bail you out now? That’s right. Not one fucking person other than you. Get to work. Grab the shovel and dig out of the mess you buried yourself in to hide. The hiding places are gone, love. You cannot breathe because you buried yourself alive and still tried to call it living. Look at you now, kicking and screaming like a tantrum that stopped giving you your way. Time is up. No one is going to come save you… it’s your turn now. Save yourself. This is where you learn all the lessons you won’t forget. This is where you figure out just how tough life is and if you are just as tough or not enough. Which is it? It’s a split second decision to make or break yourself. Now let me see you break yourself open until you make yourself stand up again and matter. Matter into the final draft of yourself… finally.