When He Speaks Again, I Can Tell

Live Free Or Die. Four Words. Thirteen Letters. Ridges, Bumps, Swirls Under My Fingertips. Another Story. We Cling Tightly To It, And Our Belief Turns It To Truth.

Mistake, Mistake, Mistake. A Strange Word: Stinging, Somehow.

Only When It Rains. And Sometimes, Too, When I Remember.

Maybe Before You Die, It's Your Ghosts You See.

We’ll Go.” Her Voice Is Surprisingly Deep And Forceful. Set In Her Sunken, Shipwreck Face, Her Eyes Burn Like Two Smoldering Coals. “we’ll Fight.