I could post my thoughts in the night. Knowing freedom only under the moonshine light. I could probably live my life that way. Afraid to show my face.
But is that a way to live? To only barely live.
Is that how I will be remembered? As the shadow at the end of December.
I won’t leave that way. Not while there is a butcher’s bill to pay.
I’ll move my fingers with moving thought.
I will blog.