If I cracked open the case that holds my soul, kind of like an egg and just let it pour out, what color would it be? Would I bleed? Would you watch it with me? Would it tell you anything? Would it make you sing? Would it make you smile?

If I opened up to the world and put it on a page, would those words be worthy? Would they hold your attention?

Don’t blink. While you were thinking, something happened. I saw a smile. Perhaps a flicker of a memory of when you were small, when you were tiny. It quickly passed and here we are now. In the car. Alone and cold. Waiting for what? Waiting for something? Anything. There’s no sound. I’m fighting feelings I didn’t want to believe. Sometimes I just shut it down.

Waiting for Daybreak. Another heartache. Yet I continue to make mistakes.

Waiting for Daybreak. I’ve had all I can take. Yet I keep coming around.

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