sp3ktr

Day 199 of silver tongue dancing to the beat of sword blades sliding from a well oiled scabbard. Free your self from what you said or should have said, all you have is this moment. Enjoy this and forget the time you were face down in the gutter, your fist wrapped tightly around a bottle, like it was my neck. I free myself from all the times you fixed something i had made to perfection, your passive aggressive way of telling me I failed. Again. Your ghost is no longer my backseat driver and i am steering this black chariot into fame, glory riches. Whose ghost do you need to kick to the curb?