This is a letter to you. I used to write everything down until you split town but now i keep it inside. I used to pick up my pen. Tear out a sheet of paper and then I’d vow to never stop until i die. But then something changed my mind. I started getting caught up in the good times. I started fooling myself. You started seeing somebody else. My pen staryed in the drawer. Means of expression stayed ignored. But i just couldn’t see that the problem was really me. Now i’ve discovered this (Take a shot-hope i dont’ miss.) was the problem all along. The problem was my walls are too strony. Say goodbye to mental doors-open then up along with closed sores, until everything’s rung true. This is my letter to you.