You will eventually lose control, and when you do – when you lose every last shred of it until you can’t see red from black, right from wrong – I will be here. Ready to back you up, the way you should be doing for me.
Instead of ignorance, I tasted what it might be like to finally be me. I didn’t give a show this time. I had no plan, no calculations. No scolding voice inside my head. For a little while, I was free.
Maybe I’ve dragged myself through the mud since then, but even mud hardens beneath your shoes. I must be standing on a mountain of it by now. And no one can touch me from way the hell up here.
