Nudging me to give you a chance
And I’m conflicted,
What if I let this chance for there to be an us pass us by?
You’ll be incomplete- you say to me
Human beings were made to be creators- you continue
And I look at the past, at the things i’ve tried my hand on
And I see vanity plastered all over
I see struggle, too much work, too little euphoric outcomes
But I hear you call, and I hate noise in my head
So I pick up the pen, and release you.