What advice would I give to someone who would live the life that I live? Forge ahead or give in? I'm struggling to find a reason not to thrive. These fingers in my mind are pointing at me all the time. Sometimes I sit inside my mind, reaching for the lies I left behind. What advice could I give that saves me from me? It's quick and it's me getting tossed into the sea. But I don't know how to mean the words in my poetry. So I write them all down, blow a kiss with no sound with my knees to the ground when I won 'cause I found that sometimes I sit inside my mind, reaching for the truths I left behind. What advice could I give that saves me from me?

Letter to Myself

Plaster & Dirt