The pen exposes the deepest secrets my brain kept hidden.
The pain I was too scared to feel, I ran from & had never written. 
This state of composure took too many nights feeling defeated.
Too many answered calls when I was needed, but nobody was ever in reach. 
Lessons in impermanence only the reaper could teach.
Packed up the cleats, then had to find ways to mend all the anger I steeped in. 
My only outlet became to close to a religion. 
It built and crushed this precious soul I was given. 
I sold the rights to my spirit.
Too many nights I seen the sunrise.
My vice became a chokehold. 
Too many fights I don't show.
Trying to capture the light I don't know.