at some point you have to be willing
to break the rules,
to have a little come-what-may.
if you can't even tell me your destination,
how can you decide
what steps you'll take to get there?
or what i will mean to you
when you arrive.

the seeking of danger
is a side effect of the same poison
that kept me burning for weeks:
your words, your words,
they are still embers glowing in the dark.
so take the curve at 70 mph,
bet on another round of shots,
since the words
are all that remains of the path.

we find the will to keep walking,
you and i,
and whether that source is each other
or nothing and everything
is up to us, and no one else.
there are only two sides to this story,
the things i want to take from you
and your willingness
to give them up:
a little sanity, love,
and another road to walk down.