I have too much to say and can't get it out fast enough.
Mostly just spitting angry words at the sun.
Life's rough, knives cut.
Fear or be feared.
Bleed or draw blood.
I shouldn't encourage your willingness to cause pain, but damn is it better than feeling it.
Trust me; I know.
I've got welts on my hands and memories of cigarette kisses in bars.
Stayed up half the night tipsy on Jack.
Felt like hell in the morning with dragon breath and half a name left.
Running reckless and fearless dying to feel something.
I've got a scar below my left eye and an old rope burn across my arm.
Crying old tears, ones that should've spilled years ago but I'm too stubborn to let go.
Let me just tell you a thing or two...and I'm fully aware of how little I know, but still
Here's the thing, I want you to live life really full.
And really free.
I want you to know a real love.
One that comes with good morning kisses and shoulders that are actually there for you to cry on and lips that are yours to kiss.
A love that doesn't ditch you in a metaphorical dark alley with nothing but a cheap dress and wine on your lips.
I want you to have good memories.
I get it. Pain comes, I have the bruises.
But you have the right to own your scars.
You've been bloodied up and choked out, you've been caught in the abyss.
You're still standing though.
Your arms, though they may be weak are still upright bearing the weight of your try.
Your heart is still pounding out of your chest with a loud, earth shattering call.
And look how tough you must be.
The most badass thing you'll ever get to say is "I lived."
I swear I lived full, hard and fierce.
With wind burning my eyes and blood trickling down my cheek.